The Way it was Meant to Be
by fawfulfan
Summary: What happens to the seven worlds of Halla after the defeat of Saint Dane? This story provides the answers! Contains major spoilers for The Soldiers of Halla.
1. Denduron, Part 1

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Denduron ~**

Bollod turned, ashen-faced, to his band of companions. _What have we gotten ourselves into?_, he wondered.

He could have kicked himself for his foolishness. Because of him, hundreds of fellow Lowsee were going to be slaughtered. How could he have even considered trying to challenge the might of the Empire...and dragging so many of his comrades into this mess?

Bollod raised his head, and looked up at the Loom Mountains. The massive army of dados was coming closer, and hundreds of Bedoowan knights brought up the rear. Though it was impossible to see, Bollod knew perfectly well that each and every one of the dados and Bedoowan knights would be armed with enough tak to vaporize a hut. Or ten rebel Lowsee. The rebels' only small comfort was that none of the three suns, Noab, Lao, and Rigg, were in their eyes, which meant that they would have an advantage of visibility over the enemy. Bollod wondered if that was a problem for dados. Certainly it would be for the Bedoowan knights. But, he realized sadly, it would make little difference if they were fighting opponents armed with tak. Tak didn't have to hit its target; it just had to be close.

Bollod recalled how different it had seemed a few weeks ago. If you were a Lowsee, life was a short and brutal affair...if you werelucky. The unlucky Lowsee would toil in the glaze mines for decades, slowly being poisoned by the toxic gas formed from the extraction of the precious blue glaze stones, until he died a slow and painful death. So it had been for three hundred years.

Once, the Lowsee tribe had been separate from the Empire. In fact, they had been trading partners, back when the Empire hadn't even existed. In exchange for glaze, the Lowsee supplied the Bedoowan tribe with triptyte, a valuable mineral that glowed in the dark and could be used to create artificial light. But that had all changed when the Milago tribe were granted their freedom. Until that time, the Bedoowan had enslaved the Milago and forced them to mine for glaze. But when the two tribes made peace, there was no one to mine glaze. Nobody would willingly poison themselves in the glaze mines. And when the glaze supply had dried up, the Milago and Bedoowan had nothing to trade. The Lowsee had subsequently stopped supplying them with triptyte.

It was then that everything fell apart. The Milago and the Bedoowan would not be denied light. They formed the Empire, and marched on the Lowsee village with tak. The Lowsee had been no match for the volatile, explosive mineral, and fell under the control of the Empire. And it hadn't stopped there. The Empire spread to new lands, and imposed not only their will, but also a mysterious and frightening new philosophy.

Ravinia.

From the ranks of the Empire, the Ravinians selected those Milago and Bedoowan judged to be "elite". The others were used as slaves, performing menial work and living in the squalor and filth of places called Horizon Compounds. The only ones worse off than these people were the Lowsee, who were put to work in the glaze mines from their fifth birthday.

Bollod had just reached his twenty-fourth birthday, and was already beginning to feel the effects of the dread lung disease shared by all the miners. In his late teens, he began to notice that his throat constantly felt a bit rough and tickly, and, by now, suffered a constant and unrelenting, if mild, cough. He knew that the cough would worsen through the years, and, by his mid-forties, his ability to breathe would be completely gone. Most miners simply resigned themselves to this sad fact. Bollod had decided to fight.

For a few months now, Bollod had been rallying the Lowsee miners. His plan was to destroy the tak mine in the Milago city. Igniting the tak would be easy; a simple fire would be enough to blow it sky high. The hard part would be getting past the defenses in the village. For that, Bollod needed an army. He began to build one.

Bollod had been surprisingly successful. At first, he had wondered why so many of the Lowsee miners were so quick to embrace what would more likely than not be a suicide mission. But he slowly began to realize that, even considering the likelihood of death, the Lowsee had nothing to lose. Their lives were so horrendous that they were willing to die trying to fight. So much had changed; this once-peaceful tribe was preparing to fight.

But unfortunately, the Empire had got wind of what Bollod was up to, and he and the other rebels had had to run for it. They had crossed the Loom mountains and hidden in the forest beyond, believing they had given the Empire the slip. Unfortunately, they were wrong.

Bollod realized with a sinking heart that he had amassed the worst possible number of rebels. Not enough to pose a legitimate threat to the Empire, but enough for the Empire to conduct a brutal massacre.

_It's hopeless_, he thought miserably, gazing back at the advancing army. _Completely hopeless_...

All of a sudden, the dados began to explode. Enormous fiery eruptions billowed into the sky as the tak ignited. The Bedoowan knights' horses reared in terror, sending many of their mounts flying. The remaining knights seemed to be frantically tugging heavy objects backwards.

A horrible realization dawned on Bollod. The knights were trying to pull away their cannons. There was more tak inside the weapons...much more. Despite the knights' best efforts, Bollod knew that they would never escape in time, much less pull the cannons clear. The explosions spread up the mountainside, engulfing the last of the dados, before catching up to the Bedoowan knights.

There was a blinding flash—a flash that filled Bollod's entire field of vision—followed by an awesome and colossal eruption of white-hot flames. Bollod and the rebels were knocked off their feet by a searing wall of heat and energy. The ground trembled in a mighty earthquake, and, as Bollod tried to focus on the scene in front of him, he saw, to his astonishment, that the mountain was gone, blasted into a million pieces by the still-spreading fiery blast.

And then, one of the Lowsee bellowed, "INCOMING!"

Enormous pieces of rock were raining down on the forest. The Lowsee scrambled everywhere, trying to avoid the deadly downpour of debris. Screams of fear and pain mingled with the thuds and crashes of impacting rock. Bollod squeezed his eyes shut, expecting at any moment to feel a rock coming down on him. Several seconds later, the rocks stopped falling, leaving a deathly silence.

Bollod opened his eyes tentatively. Half of the surrounding trees had been reduced to splinters by the rubble. Several of the Lowsee lay dead and dying, crushed by boulders. Many more were badly injured. Most horrifying of all, however, the mountain in front of them was completely gone, and in its place stood a blackened, twisted wasteland of scorched rock and wispy columns of smoke.

It occurred to Bollod that the area on the other side of the mountain had surely sustained damage just as bad, if not worse. The Empire would be experiencing death and destruction, too.

"War is hell." Bollod muttered weakly. He then staggered forwards, collapsed, and lay on the ground, out cold.


	2. Cloral, Part 1

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Cloral ~**

"Something must be done." said Wu Yenza, the former Chief Aquaneer of Grallion, slamming her fist down on the table and glaring at everyone in the room. "This much is clear."

"But what _can_ we do?" said Per Watsu, Chief Aquaneer of Prongo.

"I'll tell you this. If we do _nothing_, it'll mean the end of our society." stated Ji Toobor, Head of the Agronomy Society.

The last remaining leaders of Cloral opposed to Ravinia had gathered in the Agronomy Society's building in Panger City, planning to discuss ways of saving their world from total destruction. They had very few ideas, and even less power to carry those ideas out.

"There is one thing we have on our side." piped up Kinn Jogat, Pilot of Crasker. "Although most of the pilots and officers of other habitats are now Ravinians, a larger portion of the general populace does not share that view...particularly after the Grallion tragedy." she inclined her head at Yenza.

Yenza continued to look around at everyone fiercely, but inside, she was nearing the edge of a nervous breakdown. The floating barge city of Grallion, which had been at the center of Yenza's world for as long as she could remember, had been attacked and sunk by the Ravinians a few weeks ago. Although a large amount of the people on board had escaped, hundreds had still died, and the survivors had lost everything...and all because Yenza had refused to turn in a few Ravinian exiles from Second Earth.

Yenza wished that the Traveler from Cloral, Vo Spader, was here. But he had left for Zadaa with Pendragon in search of the remaining exiles, and had not returned. Yenza was on her own.

"Yes," Yenza sighed, turning to Jogat, "but even if we have the will, the Ravinians have the resources."

"Hmmm..." said Toobor, stroking his thin goatee thoughtfully. "It might be possible to improvise."

"Improvise how?" asked Watsu.

"Well, we've got command of three habitats right now: Panger City, Crasker, and Prongo. We might be able to incite mutinies on some other habitats and take control of them, too; Borg and Sunda would be ideal targets. Plus, we've got plenty of weapons on Panger City, confiscated from Raider ships over the years. Theoretically, we could surround Faar, and attack the city until the Ravinians surrender."

"That's all very well, but what about the dados?" said Watsu. "They can easily board our habitats and hunt down everyone onboard."

"It's a risk we'll have to take!" said Yenza harshly, pounding the table again. "The fighters will all know what they're getting into. Everyone will understand the risks. It'll be freedom or death!"

Everyone jumped, startled by the sudden eruption. Even Toobor seemed taken aback.

"Does anyone disagree with this course of action?" inquired Yenza coolly, raising an eyebrow.

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

"All in favor, say 'ho'." said Toobor finally. There was a pause. Then all four of them said, "ho" simultaneously.

"Then it's agreed." said Yenza with authority, rising from her chair. "It's our final stand against Ravinia. "Jogat and I will try to incite rebellion on a few more habitats. Toobor, Watsu, prepare the three habitats we've got for battle."

Toobor and Watsu nodded, stood up, and left the room at brisk trots. Jogat stared at Yenza for a few seconds, and then asked, "Do you really think that we have a chance?"

Yenza pondered the question. Certainly their task was daunting. They would have to convince entire habitats to fight Ravinia. But then she thought of Spader. Spader would definitely say it could be done. And Spader was doing more or less the same thing, wasn't he? He and Pendragon were off fighting Ravinia in some other part of Halla, in spite of overwhelming odds. If Spader and Pendragon could do it, she certainly could.

"Absolutely." Yenza answered firmly. "Hobey-ho, let's go."


	3. Veelox, Part 1

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Veelox ~**

"Do you think we are intimidated by _you_?" roared Genj, jabbing his finger as hard as he could into the chest of the raggy Flighter.

The recent events had become too much for the leader of the Tribunal of Ibara. Roughly one year ago, the great pilgrimage to recolonize Veelox had failed miserably. A group of gunboats, piloted by Flighters, had destroyed the pilgrim ships, killed half of the people aboard, and ruined the final phase of the elaborate plan Aja Killian had set into motion centuries ago. But there had been no time to mourn, for Siry Remudi and Pendragon had brought dire warnings of an impending attack on the village of Rayne by thousands of mechanical men called dados, which none of the island's defenses were capable of thwarting.

Fortunately, Pendragon and Siry, accompanied by a mysterious warrior named Alder, managed to procure a mysterious weapon called tak. It was an explosive mineral which could be affixed to the tips of arrows and used to blast any target to bits. The tak had proved to be Ibara's salvation, and the dados were destroyed...along with Rayne.

The process of cleaning up the destruction of the battle and restoring Rayne to its former glory took months and months, but life had slowly returned to normal. Pendragon was appointed to the Tribunal, sitting alongside Genj, Moman, and Drea, and proved to be a wise leader. Genj had started to feel confident that maybe things would turn out for the best.

But then it all came crashing down around him.

Pendragon had disappeared, along with his daughter, Telleo. Genj feared something terrible had happened to them. Jen Remudi, Siry's father and a former Tribunal member, had also disappeared in exactly the same way, shortly before Pendragon had arrived on the island, and, according to Pendragon, he was dead. To lose another member of the Tribunal, not to mention his daughter, came as a terrible blow to him. What was more, Pendragon had become a symbol of hope to the people of Ibara. Without him, morale took a sharp dive.

The disappearances of Pendragon and Telleo, however, shortly became the least of Genj's worries, for, three months later, Ibara was once again invaded. Another vast army of dados arrived, piloting gunboats taken from the ruins of Rubic City. Unlike the Flighters' gunboats, which were rusted out and barely seaworthy, the dados' gunboats looked sleek and brand-new. What was more, unlike the previous army of dados, which wore rotten clothes much like the Flighters, these dados wore crisp green uniforms and golden helmets.

A pair of people disembarked from the largest of the gunboats, and introduced themselves as Veego and LaBerge.

"Why have you come to the island of Ibara?" Genj had said sharply. From the moment he first saw Veego and LaBerge, there was definitely something about those two that he hadn't liked.

"This island now belongs to Ravinia, and to us." Veego had said, a cold smirk playing around her mouth. "The village of Rayne will be the location of our first conclave."

Behind Veego, LaBerge sang, "Ravinia is the future, Tribunal is the past. The strong get all, the weak get none, a system built to last!"

"You cannot do that!" Genj had shouted angrily. "Whoever you are and whatever you're planning, we will not allow you to overrun our way of life!"

"You say that as if you believe you have a choice in this matter." replied Veego. "You don't seem to recognize that we are in charge now. You have no hope of turning our security dados away, and you would be wise not to try."

Genj had been so outraged that he could barely breathe, but he realized that Veego spoke the truth. The security force of Rayne had no chance of stopping this second army of dados. They had no more tak.

"What is Ravinia?" asked Moman coldly, stepping forwards to stand beside Genj.

"Ravinia is the new order. We shall reward the enlightened individuals who contribute, and cast aside those who refuse to be productive. The Ravinians shall live here, in Rayne, and spend their lives in paradise. Meanwhile, we shall construct a Horizon Compound on the other side of the island, to house those who do nothing but burden the community."

"A society can't function like that." said Drea, appearing at Genj's other side.

"Oh, but it has. All over Halla." said Veego.

"All over what?" said Genj, confused.

"I grow tired of this conversation." Veego said coldly, ignoring Genj's question. "I will give you and your security force thirty minutes to leave Ibara. You will not take any citizens of Rayne with you. If you do not leave the island, I will have you killed."

"What kind of monsters are you?" Genj shouted.

"_Twenty_ minutes." amended Veego, smirking again. "Come," she barked at LaBerge, who was happily picking tropical flowers. He started, ran over to Veego, and the pair of them started off in the direction of Rayne. The dados began to disembark and followed the pair of them, marching in perfect formation.

"We've got to get out of here." said Moman. "We don't have the power to resist."

"But we can't just leave the people of Ibara to the mercy of those two!" protested Drea.

"If we do not leave, we will be killed." said Genj. "You two, round up the security force as quickly as you can. I'll ready our largest fishing boat."

Miraculously, Genj, Moman, and Drea had managed to meet the twenty-minute deadline. Before long, the entire security force was jammed onto the largest of the fishing boats, leaving the bay and setting off over the warm, glassy surface of the Veelox ocean.

Roughly one day later, they had landed in the remains of Rubic City, a once-great metropolis that had crumbled from centuries of neglect. A long time ago, Veelox had been an advanced society which enjoyed the immense power of a fantastic virtual-reality supercomputer known as Lifelight. But the temptation of living in a perfect fantasy had been so great that the people of Veelox turned their backs on the real world. Cities crumbled, society fell into ruin, and by the time the Lifelight pyramids failed and people were forced to go back to their real lives, it was too late. But Aja Killian, a Lifelight Phader who realized that Veelox was dying, organized a group of forty Lifelight technicians and built a new society on the island of Ibara.

And now Ibara itself was threatened.

Genj, Moman, Drea, and the security team had taken refuge in the ruins of a crumbling skyscraper that, judging from the faded sign above the entrance, had once been the RUBIC PARKVIEW HOTEL. They all slept in rooms on the ground floor, not wanting to be on a higher story in the event that the building collapsed. Several members of the security force foraged through the city for usable materials. They managed to find a large stockpile of gloid, a pudding-like food which had nourished those on Lifelight jumps. The Tribunal had spent the last few weeks trying to decide what to do. None of them had any ideas.

And today, one of those savages known as Flighters had wandered into the Rubic Parkview Hotel and found them all there.

Two members of the security force had immediately tackled the Flighter and brought him to Genj. As Genj had stared at the filthy man before him, all of his rage seemed to burst out of him.

"Do you think we're intimidated by you?" he yelled again. "After all we've been through?"

Genj wound up and slugged the Flighter as hard as he could in the stomach. The man gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, and doubled up, wheezing.

"Why," Genj yelled, "do you Flighters insist on destroying organized society? If not for you, we wouldn't have had to shut out Ibara to the outside world! If not for you, the pilgrimage would have begun the process of restoring Veelox to its former glory! _What goes on inside those savage, barbaric heads of yours?_"

The Flighter had kept his head down throughout Genj's tirade. As Genj finished, the man at last looked up to face him. Genj had expected the Flighter to struggle, to try to attack him, or at least try to run away. Genj had not expected the Flighter to stare straight at him, tears forming in his eyes.

"No choice." croaked the Flighter in a quivery, hoarse voice.

"What do you mean, no choice?" snapped Moman.

"Wanted to survive." replied the Flighter.

"You wanted to _survive_?" repeated Genj contemptuously. "And your plans for survival involved attacking Ibara every chance you had?"

"Don't understand." implored the Flighter desperately. "Forced."

"You were forced to attack Ibara?" inquired Drea. "By whom?"

"Saint Dane."

There was a silence. Then, the Flighter dropped his head and burst into anguished tears. "Release him." Genj said to the two men holding the Flighter. They backed off, and the Flighter collapsed onto the floor, moaning and shaking with sobs.

"Who is Saint Dane?" asked Genj, a little more gently.

"Strong man. Bad man. Force us attack. Force us dig flume. Bring dados."

Genj wasn't entirely sure he understood what the Flighter was saying, but he got the general idea. Someone had forced the Flighters to do the things that they did.

"But what about three hundred years ago? This man can't have been alive back then. Flighters assassinated Aja Killian and attacked other people for anything of value that they had."

"Different then. Didn't understand. Confused and scared."

"So, originally you _were_ savages, but lately you've only been attacking Ibara because you were forced to by this Saint Dane person."

The Flighter nodded.

"Is he still in Rubic City?" asked Moman.

"No. Left. Won't attack again."

"Do you have a name?" asked Genj.

"Reyka."

There was another long pause. Then, Reyka said again, "Wanted to survive. Just wanted to survive." He burst into tears again.

Genj fell silent for a while, mulling over what he had heard. Reyka continued to wail, beating his fists on the dusty, rotting floorboards. Then, Genj said, "You know, Reyka, Ibara has fallen. A pair called Veego and LaBerge now rule over the island and are busy creating something called the Conclave of Ravinia. Do they have anything to do with Saint Dane?"

Reyka nodded, wiping away his tears. "Brought from flume." he choked.

"I do not know what that means, but it doesn't matter. How many Flighters are there in Rubic City?"

"Lots. Thousands." said Reyka. "Never wanted bad. Just scared and confused."

Genj pondered this for a few seconds, then said, "How would you like to undo the damage that Saint Dane has done here?"

Reyka's entire aspect changed immediately. Genj saw a gleam of hope in the Flighter's eyes. "How?" he asked, gazing at Genj as though he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

Genj looked right into Reyka's eyes, and said "We're going to attack the Conclave of Ravinia with an army of Flighters."


	4. Zadaa, Part 1

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Zadaa ~**

A few years had passed since Ravinia had conquered the city of Xhaxhu, the cultural capital of the territory of Zadaa and home to the Batu, a warrior tribe which lived in the middle of the desert. The Rokador tribe had established Xhaxhu as the Conclave of Ravinia, and all of the Batu were either enslaved or thrown into the Horizon Compound at the former training camp of Mooraj. In the past, the Rokador had lived underground and relied on the Batu for their protection, but since the dados had been brought to Zadaa, this protection was no longer necessary. The Batu were simply cast aside.

It killed Saangi that her home world had fallen to Saint Dane and his evil vision, and, even worse than that, Loor wasn't there to help her. A few months ago, Loor had arrived on Zadaa. Then, a few suns later, Pendragon had come, along with the Traveler from Cloral, Vo Spader, in search of Ravinian exiles, and Saangi had accompanied them. In Mooraj, the group had met up with the Traveler from Quillan, Elli Winter, who informed them that the exiles on Zadaa were dead. Pendragon and Elli had gone to the Territory of Third Earth to battle Saint Dane, and Loor and Spader had left for the mysterious plane of positive energy known as Solara. None of them had returned.

As Loor's acolyte, it was Saangi's job to assist her, as well as the other Travelers, whenever she was needed. But the Travelers didn't seem to need her. All she could do was stay on Zadaa and watch her world crumble.

At least, that was what she had believed until a few months ago.

Just waiting on the sidelines was no longer enough for Saangi. She decided to take action. Working behind the scenes, she had been attempting to rally those Batu who were enslaved in Xhaxhu. Most of them believed that to fight would be suicide, and Saangi had to admit that they had a fair point. Though many of the slaves were former Ghee warriors, they stood no chance against the dados. However many were destroyed by a rebel force, there would always be more.

Saangi had had practically no luck in convincing the Batu to fight, so she formed a radical new plan. She proposed that the Batu steal a fleet of dygos and escape Xhaxhu. The dygos, powerful manned drilling machines capable of cutting through almost any kind of rock, would allow them to tunnel into and along the bottom of the Kidik Ocean and get as far away from the reach of Ravinia as possible. Then, the Batu could set up a new life in another part of Zadaa.

Unsurprisingly, many still refused to play a part in this plan, for the risks were endless. Assuming that they did manage to steal the dygos without being captured and start to tunnel underneath the vast freshwater ocean near Xhaxhu, driving that far along the bottom was appallingly risky. Although recent technological advancements from the Rokador had equipped the dygos with new devices which could pull oxygen from the water and ensure an endless air supply, there was still the risk of falling into an unseen chasm or suffering a vehicle malfunction. And even if the plan succeeded, the idea of fleeing Xhaxhu was not a pleasant one. The remainder of Zadaa was dominated by savage marauders and cannibal tribes, most of whom would unflinchingly slaughter strangers to protect their own turf. It had been for this very reason that the Batu had built Xhaxhu out in the flat, featureless desert—so that it would be easy to spot and drive away any approaching threat.

Nevertheless, a fair amount of Batu slaves decided to take a chance on Saangi's plan...anything to escape Ravinia.

Mercifully, the first stage of the operation had gone surprisingly well. A group of Batu managed to steal back some of the wooden staves and armor that had been confiscated by the Ravinians. Those Batu who had once been Ghee warriors had managed to fight off the dados long enough for Saangi and the others to steal several dygos. Without any hesitation, the group of dygos dug down into the ground, then began to dig in the direction of the Kidik Ocean.

Rather sooner than Saangi had expected, the dygos broke through the rock wall and began to tread along the bottom of the Kidik Ocean. This vast body of water had been created not long ago. Once, the Rokador had lived in a the vast underground city of Kidik, controlling the flow of the rivers from the northern mountains. When tensions grew between the Rokador and the Batu, the Rokador stopped the flow of the water to Xhaxhu, and collected it in a great underground reservoir. When the Batu army marched on Kidik, the Rokador released the water in an attempt to drown the Ghee warriors. Instead, the immense pressure of the water destroyed Kidik, along with the underground network of tunnels constructed by the Rokador. As the water had risen, it tore a vast chasm in the desert above, and the Kidik Ocean was born. Miraculously, most of the Batu and Rokador escaped, and the two tribes formed a new alliance. The future of Zadaa had looked so bright.

But then came Ravinia.

_Are we doing the right thing?_ wondered Saangi. _Would Loor approve of the course of action I have chosen? What about Pendragon?_

The ruins of Kidik itself lay at the bottom of the ocean. As the dygos moved forwards, more and more of the former city of the Rokador was illuminated. Kidik was made of hundreds of buildings carved from the rock walls of the vast underground cavern, rising in many levels and connected by a series of bridges. Many of the buildings were completely destroyed, smashed to pieces by the pressure of the flood that had submerged the city. Some of the buildings looked reasonably intact, but even these were riddled with cracks and holes. The old streetlights that once lit up the city were all dark, and some of the poles were bent. It became difficult to negotiate the streets, as the dygos had to constantly skirt around large chunks of rubble.

Suddenly, the dygos in front of Saangi came to an abrupt halt. When Saangi caught up with them, she saw why. They had reached the edge of Kidik...all too literally. The ground dropped away into a dark pit. The water in front of them was just as black, the other side clearly far too distant to be seen.

Saangi immediately pulled on one of the joysticks of the dygo. The drill spun until it faced straight down, and began to tunnel through the rock. The Batu in the other dygos saw what she was doing and copied her. The plan was to dig down and come out at the bottom of the pit. The only trouble was that Saangi had no idea how deep the pit was. She could come up short and plummet to the bottom, risking damage to the dygo, or she might dig for too long and never find the Kidik Ocean again.

After a few minutes, Saangi decided to dry digging out. She burst through the rock...and began to fall. She had grossly misjudged the distance. Saangi's dygo gathered speed, until...

CRASH!

Her dygo landed, hard, at the bottom of the ocean. Frantically, she did a quick scan of the control lights and the interior of the dygo sphere, looking for any sign of damage, but her dygo seemed to still be in perfect working order. She spun the dygo around, and saw that the other dygos had made the same mistake she had. With much crashing and banging, the rest of the dygos hit the bottom of the Kidik Ocean. Unfazed, the group continued on their way, heading into the blackness.

Their way was clearer outside of the ruins of Kidik, so the group of dygos could cover more ground. However, there was no indication that they were anywhere near the other side. Nobody knew quite how large the Kidik Ocean was; for all the Batu knew, it could have been a moderately large lake, or it could have covered half of Zadaa. If it was the latter, they would starve to death before they found their way out.

If Saangi had to guess how long she and the other Batu traveled along the ocean floor, she would probably have said a few suns or so. The group of dygos had to stop a few times so that their occupants could rest. But eventually, Saangi began to notice that the ground was sloping upwards. Very slowly, the darkness began to lessen, and the water became clearer. After about twenty minutes, Saangi saw sunlight overhead, and shortly, the dygos broke the surface of the water, landing on a beach.

Saangi opened the hatch of her dygo and stepped out, as the Batu in all of the other dygos did the same. Saangi's mouth fell open at the sight that greeted her.

"I do not believe it." she whispered.

She were standing on the edge of a spectacular jungle. The trees towered into the heavens, and stretched as far as she could see in both directions.

"There are bound to be edible plants in there." said a young woman who had just emerged from the dygo nearest Saangi.

"But it is likely that there will be marauding tribes within that jungle, too." added a large man.

"The important thing is that we have found a new home." said Saangi confidently. "But we must never forget our brethren who are still enslaved in Xhaxhu and imprisoned in Mooraj. Our mandate must not only be to survive and create a new civilization, free from the tyranny of Ravinia, but also to grow strong enough to one day return and liberate those who are still in need of help."

"Absolutely." agreed several Batu at once.

"Ready your staves." cautioned Saangi, drawing her own. "We are not familiar with this environment. If we are attacked, we must be prepared to defend ourselves."

The band of Batu cautiously proceeded into the jungle. The trees towered overhead, casting dark shadows over everything. The temperature was a bit cooler in the shade of the trees, but the group was not used to such stifling humidity. The plants around them took on all shapes and sizes, some bearing multicolored flowers the size of dygos, and many of the trees bore bunches of fruit.

And such strange fruits they were, too! There were large multicolored berries so shiny that they reflected Saangi's astonished features. Blue diamond-shaped fruits covered in what looked like wavy green hair hung in chains from a dark tree to the group's left. Clustered in bunches on a knobbly tree further on were three-foot-wide spheres that were completely transparent except for the seed-cases studded in the center, which seemed to flash different colors as the group passed. Perhaps strangest of all, a cluster of trees up ahead bore rainbow-patterned fruits, twenty feet long and as thin as Saangi's little finger, which emitted an enticing perfume as the Batu brushed them aside.

As they continued on through the jungle, they also saw a wide variety of strange creatures, far different from the zhou beasts and snakes that roamed the deserts. A flock of snow-white birds with beaks that resembled snail shells flew through the upper canopy. A strange purple frog tottered past on what Saangi realized were five tongues trailing from its mouth, which the creature was using as appendages. At one point, the group leapt backwards in alarm as what seemed to be a thirty-foot-tall dinosaur crashed through the undergrowth ahead of them.

After about an hour of marching, the Batu came to a large clearing. "Stop." Saangi commanded. She looked intently at the clearing ahead of them. "This is not a natural glade. See how symmetrical and clear it is. This was man-made. Proceed with extreme caution."

The group stepped into the clearing. Nothing happened. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but remained on the alert for any sign of movement. They reached the center of the glade.

"Aaargh!"

One of the Batu had taken a step forwards, and the ground beneath him caved in, sending him tumbling into a narrow, ten-foot-deep pit. Then, with a _whoosh_ and a _clang_, wooden bars popped out of the sides of the pit's rim, trapping him in a sunken cage.

"Do not move!" Saangi shouted, turning around on the spot. The clearing they were in was obviously filled with traps. "I will save him. Everyone else, stay back!"

Saangi moved forwards cautiously, gingerly, poking around with her stave. It did not set off any traps; that had to mean that the space directly in front of her was safe to walk on. She took a step...and the ground below her fell away, as it had done with the other Batu. Crying out with surprise, Saangi tried to jump out, but it was too late. She landed at the bottom, and a set of wooden bars clunked into place above her head. Somehow, the traps had been set to spring only when people stepped on them, and didn't respond to any attempt to uncover them.

"Leave me!" Saangi ordered. "Go back!"

The Batu turned and started to hurry out of the clearing, but suddenly, Saangi heard the unmistakeable sounds of more traps springing, imprisoning the rest of the group. It seemed that the traps had also remained inactive until the group had entered the clearing, allowing them to enter but cutting off their escape.

All at once, the air was filled with the sound of chanting and yelling. Saangi couldn't see exactly what was happening from inside of her trap, but it seemed as though a large group of people was converging on the clearing, crashing through the jungle and shouting. Next thing she knew, the bars of her trap had been pushed open, and a pair of hands had seized her around her waist, pulling her out of the hole.

Saangi's captor was a tall, muscular man adorned with war paint and dressed in bloodstained leathers covered in horns and spikes of all shapes and sizes. As far as Saangi could see, he had no weapon, but he looked formidable and dangerous all the same. All around her, savage-looking men and women in similar armor were pulling the other Batu out of their traps.

"We...we come in peace." Saangi said clearly, though her voice quavered. Her captor responded with a guttural bellow that sprayed her with flecks of spittle. He would not be reasoned with. Saangi's only choice was to fight.

She aimed a blow with her stave, and the man blocked it with his fists, sending it spinning out of her hands. She could have kicked herself; she had broken the most important rule of combat. _Never make the first move_. Loor would have been ashamed. Now Saangi was completely defenseless.

"I...surrender! Do not hurt me!" Saangi shouted desperately. "We have done nothing to threaten you! Why do you attack us?"

The man bellowed again, and slammed her to the ground. She rolled over just in time to see him draw a vicious, bloodstained knife. He _did_ have a weapon, after all.

Suddenly, Saangi had an idea. It was desperate, and she expected it wouldn't do anything, but she knew that it was her only hope. "Please! We are the descendents of King Azhra!"

The effect was immediate. The man standing above her froze, as well as a few others near to the two of them. This abrupt change rippled out in a great wave, and suddenly, the band of fearsome warriors had all stopped in their tracks, and were muttering amongst themselves.

Then, something incredible happened. As one, the warriors pulled off their leather armor, letting it fall to the ground and revealing lighter, greenish fabric underneath. Once the gruesome spiky leathers were all removed, the group let out a deafening cheer. They jumped up and down, waving their arms and whooping. The man who moments before had seemed intent on slaughtering Saangi hoisted her to her feet and pulled her into a rib-cracking hug, sobbing with joy. All around the clearing, the rest of the Batu were also being hugged and kissed and slapped on the back. One or two of the fearsome warriors even seemed to have fainted with joy. Saangi didn't understand why these men and women had reacted this way to her statement, but it seemed as though it had been a brilliant move.

After a few more minutes, the band of warriors calmed down a bit. The man who had attacked Saangi stepped into the center of the clearing, raised his arms, and called in a deep, booming voice, "Our long-lost brethren have finally returned to us!"

It was slowly starting to dawn on Saangi. Could it be? She looked closely at the warriors. They were not quite as dark-skinned as the Batu, yet in many other ways, their features bore a striking resemblance. There was no other explanation. The original Batu must have come from this strange tribe in the jungle.

Saangi strode up to the man. "I am Saangi." she said. "We are from the Batu tribe."

"My name is Zushan." he replied. "And we are from the Xhinna—the oldest civilized tribe on Zadaa. We have long believed that King Azhra and the men and women who traveled with him perished in the desert. Yet it seems this is not the case. You will accompany us to our village."

Saangi and the Batu followed the band of Xhinna warriors into the jungle. After several minutes, the group came to a dirt trail, and started to follow it. They journeyed on for a while, and then, as Saangi rounded a corner, she gasped with amazement.

They were standing on the edge of a great cliff, and spreading below them was a vast opening in the jungle. At the base of the cliff was a broad, rushing river. The other bank of the river formed the bottom of a large, gently sloping hill, on which was built a large village of straw huts. Beyond the huts were the trunks of more trees, which stretched so high that the entire village was cast into shadow. People in the village were bustling this way and that, carrying armloads of fruit, pulling carts of straw to reinforce the huts, strolling along with their families. The village was far more primitive than Xhaxhu, but it looked as though the Xhinna had created for themselves a reasonably comfortable way of life.

"It may not look it, but life here is extremely hard." said Zushan, as though reading Saangi's thoughts, and she turned to look at him. "There are many cannibal tribes who share the jungle with us. That is why we surround our territory with so many traps. It is also why King Azhra was willing to fight his way through the desert to create a new home many thousands of years ago. Please tell me, Saangi, what happened to him and the Xhinna he brought with him?"

"They founded a great city in the middle of the desert, known as Xhaxhu. At first, we did well for ourselves. Xhaxhu was built in the middle of a vast oasis, full of rivers and lakes. But our luck took a turn for the worse. We do not know exactly why, but the rivers began to dry up. The climate became drier and more arid, much like the rest of the desert. Crops began to fail. People starved. We began to send expeditions to the Mountains of Elzehe'er in the north, where the rivers were fed, to find water.

"It was in the Mountains of Elzehe'er that we found our salvation. A group of Batu came across a highly advanced tribe who lived in the northern mountains, known as the Rokador. Despite the fact that they enjoyed an abundance of natural resources, they, too, were faring poorly, for they were locked in a centuries-old war with another savage tribe living in the area. But we came up with a perfect solution.

"The Rokador came back with us, and, with the our warrior skills and their advanced technology, formed a perfect balance that resulted in hundreds of years of prosperity. They built a city underground, and devised a means of controlling the flow of underground rivers fed by the storms of the north. Eventually, however, tension grew between the two tribes, and the Batu went to war with the Rokador. The Rokador responded by flooding their underground tunnels, attempting to drown us. However, when the tunnels were flooded, the pressure caused the Rokador world to collapse, and a great ocean formed in the middle of the desert. We managed to put aside our differences and live once more in peace.

"Unfortunately, it didn't last. The Rokador have recently embraced the philosophy of Ravinia, which decrees that the elite are to be rewarded and the weak are to be cast aside. Most of our tribe has been enslaved or imprisoned, and the Rokador enforce order using mechanical men known as dados. It has come full circle. We have come to the jungle in search of a better life."

Zushan did not speak for several moments. He looked out over the Xhinna village, apparently lost in thought. Then, he said "Perhaps there is a better solution that merely running away from your problems."

"Do you expect us to fight the Rokador?" asked Saangi. "Because I have already attempted it. It is a hopeless task. Not only are we outmatched in numbers and technology, but there are not enough Batu left who are willing to fight for their freedom. Ravinia has broken our spirit."

"Yet there are thousands of us." said Zushan. "And I can guarantee you that every man, woman, and child in our village would leap at the chance of a better existence, even if the risks are great."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Saangi slowly. Surely Zushan couldn't be suggesting what she thought he was suggesting.

"We shall go to Xhaxhu." said Zushan. "Every last one of us. And we will liberate the Batu—liberate our old brothers and sisters. And then we can forge a new society together—Xhinna, Batu, and Rokador."


	5. Eelong, Part 1

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Eelong ~**

"Yeee-HAAAH!" shouted Boon, as his zenzen galloped out of the gates of the treetop city of Leeandra. Behind him, hundreds of other klees followed, each mounted on their own zenzen.

Though the jungles of Eelong were as lush and beautiful as they had always been, the Ravinians had wiped out invaluable social achievements. The race of catlike beings known as klees had once been set to allow the humanoid gars to stand alongside them as equals. But when Ravinia came, the klees cast the gars out of Leeandra. The law that forbade the hunting of gars, Edict Forty-Six, was swiftly done away with, and the gars became prey. What was more, the new government of Leeandra, the Circle of Ravinia, enslaved those klees it deemed a burden to society. The hopeful future the Travelers created for Eelong had been rudely shattered.

Nevertheless, Boon felt invigorated and confident. He had just returned from the spectacular battle against Ravinia on Third Earth. Saint Dane had been defeated once and for all. And Third Earth had been in far worse shape than Eelong. The victory gave Boon the hope that anything was possible.

The moment that the Boon and the gars had returned from Third Earth, Boon saw that the gars had a new problem to contend with. A big problem.

Black Water lay in ruins.

After the first invasion of dados from Leeandra, a second wave had arrived from Third Earth via a new flume created by Saint Dane. The attack had failed, because the gars had evacuated the village, along with the exiles from Second Earth. However, the second assault had still laid waste to the vast village. Most of the huts had been reduced to charred piles of debris. Most of the sprinkler poles were bent or broken, ruining the complex irrigation system. Worst of all, however, the large building in the middle of the village, known as the Center, had been leveled. With the Center destroyed, the link radio system would be out of commission. The only hope for the gars, Boon realized, would be to stop Ravinia and open the gates of Leeandra to all.

Boon relayed a plan to the gar leaders. He would spring as many enslaved klees as he could from the Horizon Compound, bring them to Black Water, and then take the combined groups back to Leeandra to reclaim the city. The gar leaders initially opposed this plan. The last large group of klees that had come to Black Water had been an army intent on rounding up the gars for food. Eventually, however, the leaders reluctantly agreed, and Boon had set off for Leeandra.

Entering the Horizon Compound had proved easy. The dado klees that guarded the building were all deactivated. Boon suddenly realized something that made his heart leap. When the Ravinians on Third Earth had turned on Saint Dane and shut down the dados, it didn't merely deactivate the Third Earth dados—it deactivated every single dado across Halla. The dados must be freezing in their tracks on every single territory.

The Horizon Compound was filthy and shabby. Large groups of klees were crammed into identical tiny stone-walled rooms with dirt floors, simply staring off into space. Many of the rooms didn't even have any windows. Boon came to another realization as he began to rally the klees in the Horizon Compound. He had noticed that not one of the countless klees Boon talked to had any objection to Boon's plan. Boon had thought that some, surely, would take issue with Boon's assertion that the gars deserved to be welcomed back into Leeandra and treated as equals, but all of the klees completely agreed with him. Slowly, Boon began to realize that the Circle of Ravinia must have chosen any klee who believed gars were inferior as their elite, thus ensuring that the gars ended up with nothing.

Once, Boon had amassed most of the klees in the Horizon Compound, he and the others marched to the zenzen corrals, again encountering no resistance. It seemed as though the Ravinians were hiding, too scared to fight off the klees. Boon was tempted to change the plan and seize the city then and there. But he had to do it properly. The gars had to be there.

The journey to Black Water took the rest of the day. The sunbelt was low in the sky by the time that the great party of klees arrived in the mountains. Under normal circumstances, It would have taken a very long time to pass into the mountains, for the hundreds of zenzens would have needed to travel in single file along the narrow carved track that led into the valley beyond. However, the recent assault on Black Water had left behind a pair of massive holes in the mountains, created by bombs dropped from airborne gigs, which provided a much easier and faster route.

Boon led the group of klees into the scorched remains of Black Water. The gars had erected several small tents which seemed to have been made from leaves, and were working to clear away some of the blackened debris. Most of the gars cried out in surprise and alarm as the large group of zenzen-riding klees came into view, but the small group of gars who knew Boon hastily worked to restore calm.

"You've brought far more klees than we expected." said one of the gars uneasily. "Do you mean to say that every one of them is sympathetic to our plight?"

"Yes." was Boon's simple answer.

Several of the gars still looked uncomfortable, including a few of the gar leaders. Boon disregarded this.

"Are you ready to march on Leeandra?" he asked.

"We're in no state to fight. Many of us are hungry." said one of the leaders. "The dado attack destroyed our stocks of food, as well as our virloam."

"It will take you a very long time to replenish your food stores." countered Boon. "You will be hungrier if we do not act now. Besides, I do not think there will be much fighting. There are no more dados. We far outnumber the ranks of whatever security force remains in Leeandra. If they are smart, they will surrender swiftly."

The gar looked at Boon intently. "I'm not sure if it's the right decision," he said slowly, "but you make a convincing case. We will march on Leeandra alongside the klees. However, I'm not sure how we're going to be able to keep up with you."

"There is enough room on the zenzens to carry one klee and one gar," said Boon, "and enough zenzens to carry all the gars."

Many of the surrounding gars looked very apprehensive about sharing a zenzen with a klee, and some looked downright terrified.

"There is no need to fear us." added Boon. "We share a common goal, don't we? We want to put an end to Ravinia. We want equality. If we cannot trust each other, we will get nowhere."

There was silence. And then, one of the gars called out "I'm with you!" Then, many more gars shouted their agreement. Even the most mistrustful of the gars nodded.

"What are we waiting for, then?" shouted Boon. "On to Leeandra...to victory!"


	6. Quillan, Part 1

**Quillan ~**

The hazy gray clouds hung low over the shattered city of Rune.

It had been over a hundred quads since the Conclave of Ravinia had installed itself as the government of Quillan, and the already collapsing world had spiraled into absolute devastation. The windows of the towering gray skyscrapers were all dark, as it had been a long time since the poverty-stricken masses were allotted any power from the energy sector. The huge TV monitors mounted on the buildings were silent and black, and a few lay smashed on the pavement below. Rusting cars sat abandoned on the city streets, and the narrow strips of light that once had functioned as traffic signals were all out. Garbage blew across the street, and broken glass glittered in many places, marking the spots where desperate people had looted the stores for anything of value. Not that anyone got away with it. Security dados were stationed inside all of the shops, programmed to shoot looters on sight. But the authorities didn't even care about the goods in the shops—the shops weren't even open. It was all about keeping the lower class in line.

Near one of the smashed storefronts, two objects lay, one on top of the other, in the very center of one of the streets. One of them was a red flag with a five-pointed star. The other was a discarded drink can, with a single word printed on the side.

BLOK.

Two simple objects. Two objects which, quite by coincidence, had ended up lying together on the streets of Rune. Two objects which reflected the very forces which brought Quillan to its knees.

Perhaps it wasn't entirely correct to call Blok and Ravinia the forces which destroyed Quillan. Ultimately, the two factors which led to the undoing of Quillan's society were greed and elitism.

But though Quillan lay in ruins, Blok and Ravinia lived on. And with them, greed and elitism still prevailed.

A small trickle of people began to leave the buildings. It was time for everyone to go to work. Of course, they were barely rewarded for their brutal struggles...the lower-sector wage had now fallen to an all-time low of three credits a day. It would take a week's labor to buy a meal. But they had no choice...at precisely 08:5:50 each day, Blok security swept all the buildings in Rune, rounding up those who had failed to report for duty. It didn't matter if they were absent by choice, or if they were sick or injured or exhausted. They would be carted off and punished. No matter how desperate life was on Quillan, Blok could always make it worse.

This world had once been very different. It had once been creative, prosperous, and alive, a world of free enterprise and opportunity, where anyone with a decent work ethic or a brilliant idea could make for himself a life of comfort. But that had all changed when a small retail store called Blok had opened in this very city.

It hadn't all changed at once. Blok was a store like any other. Their business strategy had been to provide no-frills service at the lowest prices around. And it had proved to be devastatingly successful. So many people chose to take advantage of the tremendous savings at Blok that other stores couldn't stay afloat. And as Blok grew more and more powerful, it expanded its line of goods. Then, it moved into manufacturing. Then entertainment and education. Soon, there was virtually nothing in the world economy that Blok _didn't_ do...with substantially more efficiency than anyone else.

As Blok had begun to get more power, dwarfing even the global government powers, it started to throw its weight around. First, it lowered the wages of its workers. Then, it started to demechanize its factories in favor of cheaper manual labor. Then, it forced people to move into the cities so that they would be easier to supervise. Then, it assembled an army of security dados to keep order. But most important, it began to stifle creativity and imagination. The Trustees who ran the corporation knew that anything that made its customers think might be bad for their image.

But now that Blok was the only business on Quillan, they still needed some way to keep the people happy. A lower-sector salary was hopelessly meager, and it was quite common for three or four families to share a two-bedroom apartment. If the people were not permitted to hope for global change, they would surely have to be permitted to hope for personal change.

Thus, the Quillan Games were born.

The gaming operations were brutal...and popular. Funded by Blok, the game enterprises would abduct people and pit them against each other in exciting and deadly spectacles. The citizens living in squalor could wager on the outcomes. Those who had no money to spare could bet their lives. If they won, they might receive a huge stockpile of food, or a new job, or money, or a new house or a car, or their debts could be instantly forgiven, or they could win any number of other prizes. If they lost, then they would be rounded up, shipped somewhere else on Quillan, and enslaved. Some lucky ones might be allowed to return to their families after a few quads. The unlucky ones ended up in the tarz.

The tarz was the source of energy for all of Quillan. Blok's massive power plant complex, situated not too far from the city of Rune, broke down the atmosphere atomically and converted it into electricity. But the plants turned unused energy back into matter, and this waste had to be cleaned up. Originally, Blok had provided hazmat suits to tarz workers, but eventually stopped issuing them to save money. As the maintenance workers cleaned the waste, it entered their bodies, slowly breaking down their internal organs until they died in agony.

There had been a time roughly two generations ago when it looked as though Quillan might be reborn. An underground resistance against Blok, known as the "revival" had preserved the world's culture in an archive known as "Mr. Pop". The revivers were on the verge of inciting global revolution against Blok. Their poster child had been a Challenger in Veego and LaBerge's games...the largest gaming operation on Quillan. When he had triumphed in the Grand X, citizens all over Quillan rioted and attacked Blok. For one shining day, it looked like Quillan was going to be saved.

It didn't last. Blok's security force had found Mr. Pop, and destroyed it. Not only had the symbol of the revival been destroyed, the last physical evidence of life before Blok had been eliminated. Blok lived on, and continued to run the world.

Then, fifty quads ago, things got even worse.

Abandoning pretense, Blok had disbanded the world governments and replaced them with a single class of rulers known as Ravinia. This new organization sought out people it deemed "worthy" and gathered them all in beautiful conclaves all over Quillan. They were freed from the oppression of Blok...leaving everyone else in an even worse state.

At last, the gaming operations ended. The masses had nothing left of value to wager. The only jobs on Quillan that remained were those that enabled the leaders of Ravinia and Blok to continue to live in luxury.

This desperate nightmare world had sunk to a new low.

The early morning silence was suddenly rent by a vacuous and cheery jingle. The few functioning monitors in Rune came to life.

An announcer with the Blok logo emblazoned on the front of his uniform appeared on the screens. "All lower-sector employees please report to the Transport Center for reassignment. Have the best day ever."

As one, every citizen in Rune groaned.

Now that there was no longer a steady stream of unlucky gamblers, Blok had developed a new system for filling up its worst jobs. It simply shuffled everyone around randomly each quad.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and began to trudge in another direction, heads down, saying nothing. They were converging on a gray, windowless building on the edge of Rune. It didn't look much different from the buildings surrounding it. But inside, it was a different story.

At one time, the Transport Center had been a busy train station. And it still was. But nobody was there by choice. People were lining up to be given their new assignments and shepherded onto a train to be sent to their destination. Dados wearing crisp green uniforms and golden helmets stood every few feet, keeping people moving. Despite the horrible nature of most of the assignments, hardly anyone reacted.

One person did.

A dark-haired man in a plain, tattered old suit screamed and tried to sprint away. The dados grabbed him and pushed him through the entryway. "No! No! You can't do this!" he yelled, struggling and thrashing. The dados didn't react, continuing to push him down a flight of stairs and onto a platform. The man fought harder, but the dados seized him in a tight grip, and threw him onto a train. Almost at once, the doors slid shut and the train began to move.

Pwargenn Turfila was terrified. He had known this day would eventually come...it always did. Sooner or later, _everyone_ ended up being sent to the tarz. The only question was how long somebody would be lucky enough to avoid that last, worst assignment. It had happened to his wife ten quads ago. Then, his children had also been snatched away two quads previously. Now it was his turn.

The train had no seats or bars. Crowds of scared people sat or lay on the filthy floor, not speaking. It was almost pitch-black, as they were going through a tunnel. Soon, they were speeding away from Rune, traveling over hills and through valleys. The sky here was clear blue, unlike the pall of gray that always hung over the cities. It was beautiful...but Pwargenn knew it wouldn't last. The place he was headed was far worse than the place he had left behind.

A few hours later, the tarz complex appeared on the horizon. Like Rune, it was shrouded in a layer of gray haze. The vast, black power plants rose above a wall surrounding the entire structure. Pwargenn knew that this one complex provided all the power on Quillan, and much of its suffering.

They passed through a tunnel in the side. Hundreds of tarz plants lined a broad avenue, each bearing the Blok logo and a list of cities the plant served. TURWOJ, YOMA, GWON, said one of the signs. LEWMOBA, HANNAR, RUNE, read another.

It suddenly occurred to Pwargenn that most of the plants were empty and silent. The vast majority of cities didn't seem to be getting any power at all. Then he realized that, of course, the only tarz plants still operating were the ones that served Blok management, and Ravinia. So many people had been worked to death, in the tarz and elsewhere, that there weren't enough people left to power all of Quillan.

Pwargenn began to look at the people. They were marching in orderly fashion from plant to plant, in varying stages of illness. Some people merely looked tired, others were covered in sores, missing clumps of hair, or coughing up a congealed purple fluid.

Pwargenn saw dados, too. There weren't as many here as in Rune, though. Many of the workers were weak and sickly, so it didn't take a lot of security to keep everyone in line. He also knew that a small number of maintenance dados kept the plants running. Dados didn't perform cleanup work, though; it corroded their parts.

Over the course of the ride, Pwargenn's terror had slowly turned to rage. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't come quietly. Blok saw him as nothing more than an expendable resource. They didn't care if he lived or died. They just cared that he kept the perfect little bubble of Quillan's elite running smoothly. He would show them that he wouldn't stand for it. He was going to die, and he knew it. But he would die with dignity. And maybe he might survive long enough to inspire others.

The doors of the train slid open, and two lines of security dados assembled on either side, forcing the occupants out of the train and onto the street. They all looked up at the towering tarz plants in dread. All except Pwargenn. He sprang into action.

He tackled one of the dados.

The dado never expected it. It was simply such a stupid move that they hadn't been programmed to react to it. Before it could reach for its golden rifle, it was flat on its back, and Pwargenn was sprinting away towards...what? Where was he going to go?

_Fum! Fum!_

The other dados had come to their senses. Half of them broke ranks to chase Pwargenn, while the others continued to shepherd the frightened citizens towards the power plants. The pursuing dados had raised their rifles and were firing shock charges at Pwargenn.

_Fum! Fum!_

He knew that it hadn't gotten serious yet. There were much worse weapons on Quillan than the golden stun guns. Some more powerful guns could tear through metal as though it was paper...and then there were the sinister silver wands supplied to the Blok security force by Ravinia. It would only be a matter of time before the dados started using deadly force.

It began.

_Paf!_

Another pair of dados came around the corner to cut Pwargenn off. These dados weren't with Blok security; they were wearing the red uniforms of Ravinian guards, and they were shooting at Pwargenn with the silver wands. He flung himself to the side to avoid the deadly bolt of energy, and slammed one of the dados with such force that it flew backwards. But he knew that more would be coming. There was only one thing to do.

He had to get back to the train.

He knew that it would be a matter of seconds before the train's doors slid shut and it would be on its way back to Rune. It was his only chance.

He twisted around and sprinted back the way he had come, shoving aside the first group of dados before they had a chance to go for their rifles. But their inactivity didn't last long. Soon, both the security dados and the red shirts were launching a volley of charges in Pwargenn's direction. It only made him run faster. He rounded a corner, turning back onto the wide central avenue of the tarz complex, and there was the train, preparing to depart. Its engines were revving up, and two dados were marching along the side of the cars, sliding the doors shut.

Maintenance workers turned to stare in amazement at the man in the tattered suit, sprinting away from the marching dados. Some of them cheered. Pwargenn heard a few of them shout "Go! Go! Go!" Even the desperately sick workers, nearing the final stages of tarz waste poisoning and hardly able to walk, found the energy to wave their arms and scream him on.

The two dados sliding the doors shut had almost finished. There were only three more sets of doors to close. Pwargenn dashed for the doors at the end of the train. A few feet away, the dados looked up. Then, they started moving more quickly, trying to close the last set of doors in time. But they were too late. Pwargenn hurled himself onto the floor of the train, just as the dados slid the doors shut.

He saw the security dados and the red shirts trying to pull the doors back open. But the very same mechanisms that prevented passengers from escaping the train was now stopping the dados from getting to Pwargenn. The train lurched and began to move, gathering speed. The dados just stood there, staring. They didn't know what to do. They weren't designed to handle a situation in which a fleeing tarz worker got this far.

As the tarz began to grow smaller behind Pwargenn, he grew uneasy. He had escaped, but what would he do once the train arrived back at the Rune Transport Center? The instant the doors slid open again, the chase would start up again. Assuming he could slip past the dados in the Transport Center, he would have to find a place to hide in the city.

Pwargenn lay down on the rattling floor. He had never expected to come this far. He was sure he would be killed trying. But even so, was it really worth it? Was he merely prolonging his fate?

_Well_, he thought bitterly, _I still have a few hours to wait._


	7. Denduron, Part 2

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Denduron ~**

The last few weeks had been a nightmare.

Bollod and his band of Lowsee had to attend to the casualties of the tak explosion. The dead Lowsee were buried in the forest, their graves marked in whatever way they could, and the group looked after their injured as well as they could. Unfortunately, they had no medical supplies, so there was little they could do. Many of the injured Lowsee died within a few days. Several more were horribly crippled, requiring constant care.

However, the prospect was grim even for those who had been unharmed in the deluge of boulders. Bollod's group had very little food, and escalating squabbles made it almost impossible to distribute it equally. Some of the men and women started foraging in the woods for anything edible, but aside from a few small animals and one or two small, bland plants, they weren't very successful.

By now, only about one third of the rebel Lowsee remained. There was only one small consolation by now. Because all of the elderly and injured had died by now, there would be more food for everyone. What was more, it might at last be possible to move on in search of a more hospitable location, now that there were no longer any Lowsee unfit to travel. _The quality of good news has really gone downhill_, reflected Bollod bitterly.

Bollod was sitting on a charred, blackened boulder that had landed beside a small stream. He gazed at the rushing water thoughtfully. How had it all gone so wrong?

"Bollod!"

He turned around, startled. Someone was coming through the trees. Bollod recognized the man as Rungan, his closest friend and adviser.

"Bollod, I have been looking for you everywhere! Come quickly! It is urgent!"

Rungan dashed off into the forest, Bollod tearing after him. Soon, they emerged on the edge of the forest, where the Lowsee had set up camp.

"Look!" exclaimed Rungan, pointing in the direction of the enormous gap in the Loom Mountains.

A band of Bedoowan knights on horseback was heading towards the camp, growing larger all the time.

"We will have to take cover in the forest!" shouted Rungan. Everyone began shouting and running around, gathering up the few possessions they had, starting to run towards the treeline.

"Wait a minute!" bellowed Bollod. The Lowsee fell silent. "Before we make any hasty decisions, we must assess the situation. Can anyone see what weapons they have?"

Everyone squinted at the oncoming knights. "They do not seem to have any tak weapons." someone shouted.

"And they are not charging." added another voice. "Their horses are merely trotting."

"Though this approaching squadron of knights is certainly unsettling," said Bollod thoughtfully, "their intent does not seem to be to kill us. They are not heavily armed. Perhaps they merely intend to deliver a message or ultimatum."

Anxiously, the Lowsee waited as the Bedoowan knights approached. They had the distinctive golden, sleeveless armor and green star tattoos of the Ravinians. As they drew closer still, it became apparent that the knights were completely unarmed; there were no blades in their scabbards.

"Who among you is the one they call Bollod?" called out the leader of the knights.

Bollod stepped forwards.

"His majesty, Emperor Worras, wishes you to come to the conclave. He desires to speak with you."

"What do we do?" asked Rungan. "Do we run for it, or make our final stand here?"

"We go with them." replied Bollod.

"What!" exclaimed Rungan, as though sure he had misheard Bollod. "Have you taken leave of your senses? They are Ravinians!"

"They do not intend us harm...not immediately, anyway. And if we stay out here, we will all starve."

"But...if they do attack us later on..."

"Let them." said Bollod harshly. "I'd rather die fighting Ravinia than die out here, doing nothing."

"Well said." boomed the leader of the Bedoowan knights. "But the king does not wish you harm...as far as I know, he only wants an audience."

"I am going." said Bollod. "If anyone here would rather stay, they may do so. But I will not."

There was a pause. Then, Rungan raised his hand in agreement, followed by two more of the Lowsee. Suddenly, the entire band of rebels had their hands in the air.

"You may all sit behind us on our horses." said the leader. "Everyone choose a mount."

Soon, all of the Lowsee were on the horses, sitting behind a Bedoowan knight. The horses began to gallop back the way they had come, in the direction of the Loom Mountains. The ground under the horses' hooves was blackened and charred, twisted rubble lying everywhere. Then, they rounded a large, jagged boulder, and Bollod's mouth fell open.

When the Lowsee had fled, this area within the valley had contained a massive city. Once a simple farming village, the settlement had transformed into a sprawling, crowded metropolis under the vision of Ravinia. The entire valley had been covered with magnificent stone towers for the Ravinians, and ramshackle slums of wooden huts for those non-Ravinians who hadn't yet been thrown into the dreaded Horizon Compounds. It had been the mighty capital city of the Empire, and a symbol of the might of Ravinia.

Now, it lay in ruins.

The shower of boulders from the tak explosion had caused far more devastation on this side of the Loom Mountains than Bollod had imagined. The falling rocks had smashed through roofs, crushed carts, slammed the cobbled streets so violently that they had torn gaping chasms in the pavement, reduced many of the run-down huts to splinters, and even knocked down many of the great stone towers. What was more, the dados all lay on the ground, completely inert. The fearsome mechanical army that kept the non-Ravinians in line seemed to have frozen in its tracks and keeled over.

Worst of all, however, were the bodies. Everywhere Bollod looked, he saw towering stacks of motionless masses, wrapped in bloodstained sheets and surrounded by swarms of flies. Still more were piled up in open carts, being transported through the destroyed city.

The Conclave of Ravinia loomed up before Bollod as they traveled along the destroyed streets. The mighty, enclosed structure had also suffered horrific damage. Gaping holes had been torn in the walls of the conclave, and every few hundred feet, Bollod could more piles of bodies. Judging from the fact that they were wrapped in red sheets covered in five-pointed stars, these were the bodies of Ravinians.

What was more, the frozen dados became more and more numerous as they approached the conclave, and Bollod suddenly understood. On the day of the disaster, the dados must have all deactivated at once, including the army heading towards Bollod and his group of Lowsee rebels. When the army of dados fell over, they dropped their supplies of tak, causing them to explode. Why the dados had deactivated, Bollod couldn't begin to guess, but it did not matter. It had saved their lives...and destroyed the Empire.

The inside of the conclave was just as horrific as the rest of the city. Elegant statues lay in pieces; beautiful fountains reduced to rubble. At the center of the conclave, the Bedoowan palace looked ready to collapse.

Suddenly, the Bedoowan knights stopped their horses, dismounted, and formed a line, the Lowsee hastily leaping from the horses after them.

The doors of the palace banged open to reveal Worras, Emperor and spiritual leader of Ravinia on Denduron. Bollod had seen Worras many times; he had come to the residences of the miners several times, to threaten the Lowsee and demand more glaze. His features had always been thick with contempt whenever he looked at the Lowsee. But not this time. To his utter amazement, Bollod saw that his eyes looked haunted, and his face was streaked with tears.

"Are you Bollod?" croaked Worras.

Bollod nodded uncertainly. He didn't know what he was expecting to happen next, but he certainly would never have thought that that Worras would stagger forwards and prostrate himself at Bollod's feet, howling with misery. Confused and unnerved, Bollod stood rooted to the spot, looking down at the despondent monarch.

Worras suddenly seized the front of Bollod's leathers. "Can you ever forgive us?" he whimpered. "We were blinded with power...with our ambitions...we have destroyed everything! Everything!"

And Bollod suddenly understood what was happening. Worras and the Ravinians were repenting. Somehow, the enormous disaster had given them an epiphany. Perhaps being destroyed by their own power had caused them to realize the true nature of their monstrosity.

"I beg of you...forgive us. We can work together and correct what we have done. We can build a new Denduron together."

"Why should we forgive you?" sneered Rungan, stepping forwards and looking down at Worras. "Why should we just overlook all the death and enslavement?"

"Because there is nothing else for us." said Bollod.

Rungan wheeled around, looking at Bollod incredulously. "But...but..."

"The Empire controls the continents of Bedoo, Nodd, _and _Galla. If we turn away from the Ravinians, where do we go? One of the ten uncharted wastelands of the meridian? The poles? Besides, the Ravinians hold the shattered remains of civilization. If we forgive them and work with them, we could rebuild it all...for _everyone_, not just the "strong" or the "enlightened". And, in any case, should we not encourage forgiveness for future generations? I cannot think of a better way to do so."

Rungan stroked his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "You are right, Bollod. We must forgive them."

* * *

Over several weeks, the various tribes and people who inhabited the region worked together to clear away the ruins, building small huts for people to stay in until more permanent structures could be created. Worras and Bollod coordinated the work, and saw to it that the provisions and shelter were distributed equally among everyone. This morning, the two of them were strolling through the forest, returning to the city from a walk in the forest.

"What worries me most," Worras was saying to Bollod, "is the tak."

"Yes..." agreed Bollod. "Of all the unfortunate luck, the one thing completely unharmed in the disaster a month ago had to be the tak mine."

"As long as that underground vein of tak exists," said Worras, "the temptation will always be there."

The two of them fell silent. It was the biggest question of them all. How were they to prevent people from abusing the power of the tak once more?

"Sirs! Sirs! Thank goodness you're back!" came a voice. A man came tearing down the path, stopping in front of Bollod and Worras. "Come with me to Rellin Street at once! It's urgent!"

The two men hastily tore after him, the dirt track giving way to the cobbled streets of the city. After a few minutes, they arrived on the broad avenue known as Rellin Street.

The cleanup process had progressed farther in this section of the city than in most areas. Almost all of the destroyed buildings had been cleared away, and replaced with small huts made of stone or wood. However, halfway down Rellin Street, something was wrong.

Two of the wooden huts seemed to have been knocked down, and a third had sustained structural damage. Plastered against the third hut was what seemed to be the remains of a horse-drawn wagon. The smashed fragments of the honey pots the cart had been carrying lay everywhere, and the horse that had pulled the cart was lying on its side, whinnying in pain and distress. Several people standing nearby seemed dazed, and one or two of them looked to have minor bruises and cuts, but nobody seemed to have been badly hurt.

"That is going to take a lot of work to resolve!" said the man in who had led Bollod and Worras to the scene of the incident, jumping up and down in agitation. "Two huts destroyed, and a third that will need to be torn down and replaced. Plus, one of our best horses, with both its front legs broken; we will have to put it out of its misery. And, as if all of that was not bad enough, a cart wrecked, and our entire supply of honey lost!"

"I do not understand. How did this happen?" asked Bollod.

"We are not entirely sure, but we think it had something to do with _those_." the man replied, pointing at two small objects lying on the street about twenty yards away from the wreckage.

Bollod and Worras quickly dashed over to the objects. One of them was a cooked sausage, smeared with dirt. The other was an arrow, its tip coated in a gritty, reddish-brown mineral.

"Tak." Worras said in astonishment, looking at the tip of the arrow. "It must have been dropped by the people disposing of the weapons."

"It is lucky that it did not explode." commented Bollod, reaching out for the arrow. All of a sudden, he jerked back his hand, crying out in surprise and pain.

"What happened?" exclaimed Worras, startled.

"It...it was like being blasted by a jet of hot air!" said Bollod, looking down at his hand.

"Hot air..." muttered Worras, looking from the tak arrow to the dropped sausage. "I think I understand what happened!"

"What?" said Bollod. He had no idea what Worras was talking about.

Worras pointed to a hut right next to them. "The people in that hut must have accidentally dropped that sausage out of the window. It landed here, next to the arrow...and the tak reacted to the warmth of the sausage!"

"You mean to say that you the tak is releasing energy because it is warm?"

"Yes. The sausage has cooled down a little bit, so it is not as strong now, but the force must have launched the cart forwards, causing it to crash into the huts!"

Bollod suddenly noticed that Worras sounded oddly excited. He suddenly turned and dashed off. "Where are you going?" Bollod shouted back in surprise. But Worras had gone.

Bollod did not see Worras again until that evening, when the triptyte lights winked on, and everyone retired to the small huts for the night. When Bollod entered the hut where he and Worras were staying, he found Worras hunched over on the floor, frantically working.

"What has gotten into you, Worras?" Bollod said.

"I believe that I have solved the tak dilemma." Worras responded.

"You have? But how?"

"We will continue to use tak. But not for war. We will put it to a constructive use."

"What will we use it for?"

"Powered vehicles."

"Powered--?"

"I have been working on this all afternoon." said Worras. He got to his feet, and Bollod at last saw what he had been creating.

It looked like a tiny version of the horse-drawn cart that had crashed earlier that day, although there was a curious cylindrical object mounted on the back.

"There is a small amount of tak inside." Worras said, tapping the cylinder. "It is heavily protected from vibrations, so that it will not explode unless the tank is damaged. And I have invented a device that can warm or cool the tak inside."

Worras bent over the cart, and turned a small dial on the top of the cylinder. With a gentle hum, the tiny cart began to move forward. Bollod gasped.

"It can also move backwards." said Worras, walking over to the little cart and turning the dial again. With a small click, the cart reversed direction. "And it can turn." he added, sliding the dial sideways. The cart began to move in circles.

"How long does it work?" Bollod asked, astonished.

"I do not know. But, judging from how long that piece of tak on the street continued to emit energy, it will run for a very, very long time. And it will not stop here. We can build bigger versions...versions large enough to carry people and supplies! And keep in mind that the controls of this one are quite primitive. We can build versions where that can be adjusted to move faster or slower!"

"And why stop there?" exclaimed Bollod. "Surely this machine of yours could be used for more than just horseless carts! We could make any number of devices to perform everyday functions! It will change the world!"

"And best of all," said Worras, "this means that we can use tak for peace, rather than war."

The two men stayed up all night, dreaming up new ways in which Worras's invention could be used. They knew that they had set a tremendous force in motion...a force that, rather than tearing down the world, would build it up.


	8. Cloral, Part 2

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Cloral ~**

"This is it." muttered Wu Yenza to herself. "It's all come down to this."

The plans had been set into motion, and went off without a hitch. Ji Toobor and Per Watsu had informed the inhabitants of Panger City, Crasker, and Prongo that the three habitats would soon be heading into battle against Faar, and that any who did not wish to be involved had ten pecks to board a speeder and leave.

Very few of them chose to do so.

Meanwhile, Yenza and Kinn Jogat had traveled to the Manu habitats of Borg and Sunda. They were ideal for use in the war, as the workers there manufactured weaponry. Yenza was pleased to know that the workers in Borg were already muttering about revolution. She quickly established herself as the lead figure in the impending uprising.

Before long, the day came. Yenza had led the workers of Borg all over the ship, attacking the dados and throwing them overboard. In no time at all, they had established full control of the habitat. The only hitch was that several Ravinians had escaped the ship on skimmers and speeders. Yenza knew that they would report the revolution to the higher-ups at the Faar conclave. The Ravinians would be ready for them.

Which meant that they would have to be ready for the Ravinians.

Once Borg had been piloted to the location of Panger City, Crasker, and Prongo, Yenza was happy to see that Jogat had succeeded too. Sunda had been piloted to the same area.

The next few weeks had been spent manufacturing as many weapons as possible, and installing them all over the five habitats. Yenza was pleased with how it had all turned out. The best part was that the secret weapon she had recently dreamed up looked as though it would work perfectly...though it hadn't yet been tested, so it was hard to say how effective it would be.

Today, the habitats were speeding towards Faar, ready for battle. They had chosen a moment when no other habitats were located near the landmass. Everything was ideal.

Except that the Ravinians were waiting for them.

_What sort of defenses will they have?_ wondered Yenza apprehensively, looking out at the ocean from the edge of Panger City. _Have we made enough preparations?_

And then, slowly, Faar appeared on the horizon.

The only dry land on Cloral, Faar had been the birthplace of civilization, a vast, sprawling city of philosophers, scholars, and architects. When the waters of early Cloral had risen and submerged the entire planet, the Faarians had sealed their city in a vast dome, protecting themselves, but also withdrawing from the rest of the world, fading into legend and stories. When the underwater farms of Cloral had been threatened by a fertilizer that mutated any plants it touched and turned them deadly, it was the Faarians who developed the antidote and, thanks to Pendragon, sprayed it over the crops, preventing both a horrific plague and a terrible war. What was more, Pendragon saved the city from Saint Dane, by activating a mechanism that caused Faar to "transpire"—rise to the surface and rejoin the rest of Cloral. The world was all set for a new age of prosperity and enlightenment. Until Ravinia came. Now it was time to set things straight at last.

The Faar that lay ahead was a very different Faar from the one Yenza remembered. Gone were the ancient marble buildings supported by patterned columns and intricately carved stone arches. The buildings still looked to be made of marble, but they were now tall and boxy skyscrapers. The city also seemed twice as large as it had before Ravinia had established its conclave there. Faar looked more urban and modern.

_BOOM!_

Startled, Yenza looked down and saw that Panger City had been struck with a torpedo. The damage was not critical, but the blast had produced a hole in the side of the habitat. Alarms began to sound from below deck, and there was a red pulsing light visible through the hole.

Yenza's eyes traveled upwards, and she saw three heavily armed warships, nowhere near as large as the five habitats, but each of respectable size nonetheless.

"Return fire!" Yenza shouted into the transmitter in her hand.

A volley of water shells whistled through the air, towards the ships. Each one exploded on impact, punching large holes in the sides of the ships. At the same time, skimmers flooding out of the warships, each driven by a dado. The skimmers formed neat lines in front of the ships, and sat motionless. A man strode to the bow of the warship in the center, and spoke into a megaphone, his voice echoing in the surrounding air.

"In the name of Ravinia, I order you to surrender immediat—"

A water shell shot from Crasker collided with the front of the ship, sending the man toppling over the side. At the same time, the aquaneers of Borg launched an assault on the ranks of skimmers, creating gaping holes in the ranks. Yenza knew that their five rogue habitats were easily winning the battle. And they hadn't even used their secret weapon yet...

More torpedoes collided with Sunda and Prongo, causing the personnel to redouble their hasty repair efforts. At the same time, the warship in the center launched a volley of fiery airborne missiles at Panger City, while the warship on the left seemed to be charging up a massive gun turret...the same kind of weapon that had been used weeks ago to sink Grallion.

"Now!" shouted Yenza, speaking into her transmitter. "Launch the Snatchers!"

With a tremendous grinding noise, Yenza's secret weapon sprang to life. Three massive extendable arms shot out of the front of Panger City, in the direction of the left warship. The arms grabbed the gun turret, and, with the earsplitting sound of tearing, pulled it away from the warship, dragging it through the air towards Panger City. As it approached the hull of the great barge, connective tendrils shot out, anchoring the gun turret to the front of the habitat. The fearsome weapon that moments before had been in control of the Ravinians was now in control of Panger City...and trained on the warships.

The thundering chatter of the guns was deafening. The force of the shots tore the warships to pieces in a matter of seconds. Yenza watched in horrified wonder as her secret weapon ripped apart the Ravinian vessels with their own weaponry.

When the fire and smoke cleared, the three warships lay in ruins, and few of the dado skimmers remained. "On to Faar!" commanded Yenza into her transmitter, and she felt a great rumbling beneath her feet as the five habitats began to push forwards, knocking away the skimmers as if they didn't exist.

Could it really be this simple?

No. It couldn't.

As the habitats approached Faar, it became clear that there were far more warships...hundreds of them...and a terrifying array of weaponry within the city itself. What was more, there were thousands upon thousands more skimmers mounted with dados, heading towards the five habitats. The warships that had just been destroyed were only an advance fleet...the tip of the iceberg.

And then, the world turned inside out.

Everywhere Yenza looked, she saw nothing but flames and explosions and flying shrapnel. For every warship the habitats sank, there were ten more to take its place...and thousands more skimmers. The dados streamed onto the lower docks of the barges, flooding the lower levels of the habitats, killing hundreds of aquaneers and making repairs impossible.

The Snatchers sprung to life again, grabbing more gun turrets from the warships, but it made no difference. There were simply too many.

"ABORT THE ATTACK!" screamed Yenza into her transmitter. "EVACUATE!"

As the guns of the habitats fell silent, the warships redoubled their attack. The habitats were being torn to pieces even as people fought to escape.

As Yenza dashed off for the lower levels, intending to commandeer a Speeder and help as many people escape as possible, there was an almighty rupturing noise from deep within Panger City. The habitat was splitting in two underneath Yenza's feet. Jumping out of the way as a fiery missile streaked past her, Yenza tore off down the sidewalk of the crumbling city, past collapsing skyscrapers and deadly projectiles, and hopped into a Skimmer bobbing in the sloshing waters of the canal streets. She knew there would never be time to organize the evacuation. Panger City was already falling to pieces.

Frantically lowering the pontoons of the Skimmer into the water, Yenza accelerated. The little craft zoomed forwards, knocking against the side of the canal, bouncing off of other Skimmers, heading for the edge of the city. This section of Panger City was tilting towards the water, and sinking fast. If Yenza timed it correctly, the Skimmer would leap off the side of the barge just as her side of the deck was submerged.

Yenza swerved frantically to avoid a flaming missile. She cried out in pain as a spray of boiling water drenched her arm, but did not let go of the controls.

Yenza's Skimmer was now fifty feet from the edge of Panger City, and the ocean was rising to meet her. There was a ten-foot expanse of ground separating the ocean from the canal. With a grunt of exertion, Yenza pulled up on the handlebars with all her might. She knew, as did most everyone on Cloral, that stopping short too abruptly when a Skimmer was at full throttle could cause the little vehicle to "hop" out of the water and glide a few feet in the air for a second or two, the wings of the craft catching the air. It was a dreaded event, responsible for the majority of single-Skimmer crashes, and a lot of multiple-vehicle collisions too. Now, Yenza was counting on it to save her life.

With an icy whoosh of air that churned Yenza's stomach, the Skimmer leapt into the air, and cleared the deck, splashing down into the warm waters of the ocean. She had made it.

She gunned the throttle again, neither stopping nor looking back. Several seconds later, dreading what she was about to see, Yenza slowed down and turned the Skimmer around.

What she saw could only be described as a nightmare.

Panger City, Crasker, Prongo, Borg, and Sunda had all been reduced to burning rubble, swarming with dado-piloted Skimmers and still being fired upon by the horrific guns. After several seconds, Yenza realized that hundreds of people had survived and were trying to escape on Skimmers, just as she had done.

Some of them were just as lucky as she. Most weren't. With a heart-rending pang, Yenza saw that the guns of the warships were trained on the survivors, launching missile after missile at the water. The dados were also mercilessly killing anyone they could find with menacing silver wands. As the wands hit the people, they were incinerated with a sharp _Paf!_

Yenza felt like crying. The attack had failed miserably. And it was her fault. She had led thousands of brave souls to their deaths. She buried her face in her arms.

She remembered what Spader had told her when he had returned to Cloral from First Earth many years ago, about the reason that Pendragon told him to go home: "_I let the Travelers down. I wanted revenge on Saint Dane so badly that I forgot the true nature of that tum-tigger we were in. It wasn't about getting even with anyone. It was about protecting the territories of Halla. And I very nearly brought about the destruction of three territories because of my shortsightedness._"

Yenza had done the same thing, hadn't she? She had been so eager to stop Ravinia that she hadn't stopped to consider the consequences of her actions. She had led the last people willing to fight for Cloral into a battle they could never win. It was clear that she had failed to learn anything from Spader's example.

Yenza looked up. For a moment, she didn't register what she was seeing. It made no sense.

More habitats were coming. Hundreds of them were visible on the horizon as tiny black masses. Some were larger even than Panger City, and covered in rolling hills or neighborhoods. Others were smaller, with tall buildings and factories. And that wasn't all. It appeared as though thousands of warships were also heading for Faar, sailing around the great barges, or in their wake.

And Yenza noticed something else. Not one of these vessels was flying the red flag with the black star that represented Ravinia.

It was a dream. Yenza was hallucinating. She had to be. These habitats couldn't possibly be launching a colossal attack on Faar. The explosions and sinking Ravinian warships surely weren't real.

But they were.

In wide-eyed wonder, Yenza saw the mighty Ravinian fleet struggling to repel this new attack. But just as there had been too many Ravinian warships and land-based weapons for Yenza and her fleet to defeat, so the Ravinians were now hopelessly outnumbered by the impossible attack of so many habitats.

It was over in a matter of minutes. Faar had been completely destroyed, along with all of the Ravinian warships. Thousands upon thousands of dado skimmers still remained, but they were scattered and in hopeless disarray. And now the habitats were closing in on the great landmass, all docking at once, swarms of people disembarking...

Yenza could stand it no longer. She piloted her Skimmer in the direction of the ruins of Faar. Soon, she had pulled up to the beach, surrounded by the vast hulls of two massive habitats. Stepping off her Skimmer, Yenza joined the enormous crowds of people leaving the habitats and warships, heading for the remains of the Ravinian conclave.

Fighting her way through the crowd, Yenza looked around at what remained of Faar. The great marble buildings were no more than smoldering piles of rubble now. What was more, white-faced Ravinians were stepping out of the ruins, joining the massive crowd, heading in the same direction.

Then, Yenza saw their destination. It seemed that the crowd she was in was one of many, all converging on the charred remains of what must have been the most magnificent building in Faar. Standing in the middle of the wreckage were the leaders of Ravinia on Cloral. One of the men stepped forwards. Yenza recognized him as Du Vorat, the supreme leader of Ravinia, and no doubt the man who took orders directly from Saint Dane himself.

The millions of people fell eerily silent. Yenza had never seen so many people making so little noise. She also felt very glad that she was near the front, or she would never have been able to see or hear what was going on.

A bald Ravinian with no eyebrows stepped forwards. Yenza recognized him as well; his name was Luja Kalaloo, and she had met him during Pendragon's first visit to Cloral.

"Perhaps you're wondering how this happened." he said, his voice laden with contempt as he stared at Vorat.

Vorat said nothing. He stared at Kalaloo, white-faced and trembling.

"Well, when those Ravinians from Borg and Sunda returned to Faar with the news that the conclave would soon be under attack, the word got out." Kalaloo continued. "I suppose _someone_ prevented the news from being blocked by Ravinian censorship."

"You mean..." Vorat spluttered, glaring at Kalaloo. "but this is treason!"

"I did what I had to do." replied Kalaloo calmly. He held up his arm, revealing the green star tattoo of Ravinia. "I might wear the sign, but I do not follow the teachings. I've been waiting for this day for a very long time...the day I might help bring about the downfall of Ravinia. But I knew that I could do far more damage from within than from outside."

Kalaloo turned and began to pace. "Anyway, the effect was alarmingly swift. Habitats all around the world began to rise against the Ravinians, staging silent coups and secretly building a massive resistance. It was obvious that five habitats would not stand a chance against the defenses of Faar...but what about all of the habitats on Cloral? It seems perfectly clear. The people of Cloral have made their choice. Ravinia is finished."

"I know quite a few who would disagree with you." sneered Vorat. "The elite. The chosen. Those people who decided to rise above, rather than those who continue to hold back society."

"You mean the Ravinians?" laughed Kalaloo. "I think we've proven our point to them loud and clear."

"What...what do you mean?" said Vorat uncertainly.

"I mean that we have proved that the people outside of Ravinia are far from the weak, sniveling masses you claim them to be. They made a brave choice. A choice to oppose Ravinia and bring this devastated world back to life. _They_ are the chosen! _They_ are the ones who decided to rise above! It was the Ravinians who held back society; they were the people who wanted easy answers, who were content to sit back and do whatever you told them to do. Well, not anymore. The Ravinians have made their choice too. As you can clearly see, the Ravinians are standing in the crowd in front of you. And they aren't exactly springing to your aid, are they?"

"But there _is_ one group who will not be persuaded. A group who will unfailingly obey orders and show no mercy to the opposition." said Vorat.

"The dados." gasped Kalaloo, staggering back, horrified."

"There are still millions of them." laughed Vorat. "And they will arrive at any moment. _They'll_ teach you a lesson you won't soon forget."

Several people screamed. The crowd tensed up, muttering, preparing for a fight. But they knew it would be no good. The dados were armed, and they weren't. It would be a massacre.

Minutes passed in this manner, the enormous crowd waiting for the fight. But now, two pecks had passed, and the dados still hadn't arrived. A small group of people detached themselves from the crowd and hurried back to the beach, to look for the approaching army.

After a few minutes, the party returned, and reported their findings. The news passed from person to person, traveling out in waves. The dados, it seemed were all dead. For reasons that nobody seemed to understand, they had all stopped working, and their Skimmers were floating aimlessly in the ocean. Whatever the cause, there would be no attack.

As this news spread, the triumphant smile slid off Vorat's face, to be replaced by a look of total panic. He looked around hopelessly, as though looking for an escape route, but he was surrounded on all sides by the vast crowd. And now, the crowd was closing in on him, along with the other leaders of Ravinia, and he was lost to view.

* * *

Yenza was riding a Skimmer across the warm oceans of Cloral, looking at the great landmass where Faar had been built, pondering recent events.

The past few weeks had been spent repairing the damage. The war had completely lain waste to Faar, and the city would have to be entirely rebuilt. Perhaps it was better that way, Yenza reflected, for it meant that every last trace of Ravinia would be purged from Faar.

It was not only the buildings that had suffered damage. A great many habitats needed repairs, and some would take years to completely restore. What was more, thousands and thousands of people had died. Shortly after Ravinia had been defeated, Yenza learned that Kinn Jogat and Per Watsu had not survived the initial battle. The memorial services had continued on for weeks and weeks.

Yet the deaths were not in vain, Yenza reflected. Jogat, Watsu, and the thousands of others gave their lives fighting for what was right. Yenza was confident that that sort of courage and strength would be the guiding forces that would help rebuild Cloral. What was more, Yenza knew that she had played an essential role. She had done the right thing after all.

But there were still so many things to do. So much to rebuild. Yenza's job was not over.

She turned her Skimmer and started back towards land. It was time for her to continue her efforts. She owed it to Cloral. To Halla. To the Travelers.


	9. Veelox, Part 2

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Veelox ~**

The last four months had been long and hard, but this was the day it had all led up to.

Organizing the Flighters had been surprisingly easy, Genj reflected. It was all a matter of finding the right words. The Tribunal had promised the Flighters a place on Ibara, if only they were willing to fight for their cause. Suddenly, Genj, Drea, and Moman found themselves in command of a massive army. A dirty, uneducated, disheveled army...but an army nonetheless.

The next step, however, proved less simple. To launch an attack on the Conclave of Ravinia, the Tribunal would require a fleet of ships. Fortunately, Rubic City had been a bustling port before it fell into decay. The Flighters had been using gunboats from the harbor to attack Ibara for generations...but had always failed. Plenty of ships in the harbor were armed with powerful guns, but they were all rusted-out, half-sunk skeleton vessels. Many of them looked as though they wouldn't even survive a voyage to Ibara, let alone withstand the island's defenses. The Tribunal's only option was to repair the crumbling gunboats to the best of their abilities.

Several teams of Flighters, under the supervision of Genj, sailed all the gunboats out of the harbor and up the coast, landing on a wide, sandy beach several miles up the coast. The gunboats were then hauled and pushed until they lay on their sides on the sand, like beached whales. Many more groups of Flighters searched through the ruins of Rubic City for usable materials, overseen by Moman. Numerous other Flighter teams, organized by Drea, loaded the materials onto makeshift wooden carts and transported them to the site where the gunboats lay. The materials were then used to patch up rusted or leaking sections in the hulls of the vessels.

Gradually, the gunboats began to look more seaworthy. They were not by any means pretty to look at, but at least they seemed safer. But Genj knew that they would still not be strong enough to overcome Ibara's defense systems, not to mention the new defense systems the Ravinians would have added.

The challenge now became adding extra firepower and protection to the gunboats. Even more salvaged material was now used to strengthen the vessels, and the Flighters added extra guns to the ships, allowing each ship to fire more rapidly and hold up more effectively against counterattacks.

Today, at long, long last, it was time to launch the attack. The fleet now consisted of around two hundred well-armored and heavily-armed gunboats, each with a large crew of Flighters. The gunboats had left Rubic City the previous evening, and, as the sun rose behind the fleet, the island of Ibara came into view. Soon, the Ravinians would spot them, and prepare to defend themselves.

It happened, all too soon.

_Paf!_

A burst of energy flew through the air and hit one of the Flighters. There was a blinding flash of light, and the man had turned into a thin column of ash which shortly collapsed into a gritty pile on the deck of the gunboat.

Frantically scanning the beach with binoculars, Genj saw a line of dados taking aim with what seemed to be thin, silver wands.

"Get down!" Genj roared at the Flighters aboard his gunboat. The Flighters hastily dived to the floor, as did the Flighters aboard several other ships, but the Flighters on many other boats did not hear the command.

_Paf! Paf! Paf!_

A deluge of shots slammed into the gunboats. Genj feared that the hulls of the ships might conduct the energy and vaporize everyone on board, but the blasts seemed to have no effect when they made contact with the hulls. However, scores of Flighters were incinerated by the new volley of charges.

"The guns!" Moman yelled from a nearby gunboat. "Return fire!"

_Boom!_

The gunboats sent shells whistling at the dados. Five of them crumpled to the ground, but the rest continued to fire the destructive silver wands.

_Paf! Paf! Paf!_

_Boom! Boom!_

This time, a large amount of dados exploded as the shells slammed into them, but several more dados were now stepping out of the jungle, replacing their fallen comrades.

"The island's defenses!" screamed Drea, pointing at the water. A gun turret was now rising out of the water, twin barrels pointing at the oncoming Flighter gunboats.

_Ratatatatatat!_

The gun turret opened fire, tearing holes in three of the gunboats. Frantically, the Flighters onboard worked to seal the leaks.

"Take out the turret!" yelled Genj. Several shells immediately bombarded the turret. It exploded in a burst of flame...but two more turrets were already rising out of the water.

"Keep going!" shouted Genj. "We must make it to shore!"

And now, the Rayne conclave itself came into view. The walls appeared to be made from thick bamboo, and Genj could see that the huts of the village had been replaced by elegant wooden structures that towered above the trees of the jungle. Beyond, a magnificent palace had been constructed around Tribunal Mountain, no doubt to accommodate Veego and LaBerge. No Ravinians could be seen, but hundreds more dados were now marching towards the bay, armed with more of the silver wands.

The gunboats were mercilessly slammed with both the shells from the turrets and the bursts of energy from the sinister dado wands...and yet the fleet of gunboats continued to push forward. The turrets were soon sliding back into the water, either out of ammunition or critically damaged by the gunboats. The dados, on the other hand, showed no signs of weakening. For every dado the gunboats destroyed, there was another to take its place...and another...and another. Many more Flighters fell victim to the dado charges, and a few of the gunboats were now drifting aimlessly, their entire crews incinerated.

As good a fight as they were putting up, Genj knew it couldn't last forever. They were slowly losing their army and their fleet, while the Ravinians' supply of dados seemed inexhaustible. "What we need," muttered Genj, "is a miracle."

And, incredibly, they got one.

As one, the dados stopped blasting their deadly charges, froze in their tracks, and fell to the ground. Genj had no idea how or why, but the dado army seemed to have completely deactivated.

"This is our chance! We must take Tribunal Mountain!" Genj called across to Moman.

"It could be a trap." Moman shouted back from her gunboat.

"That's a risk we have to take. We can't turn back now that we have a chance to defeat Ravinia!" retorted Genj.

"I agree. It's now or never." interjected Drea, shouting from a gunboat to the right of Genj's.

The gunboats began to land on the beach. The three members of the Tribunal were first to disembark, followed by a mass of Flighters. Some of them carried pieces of debris from Rubic City, twirling and thrusting them like weapons. Others brandished their fists, prepared to punch or kick any oncoming foe. Yet, despite for brief glimpses of cowering Ravinians through the windows or on balconies, they did not encounter a soul within the conclave.

"These Ravinians don't seem all that brave." commented Drea, as they continued on. "And for the ruling class, they seem miserable."

"I think they're as trapped as we are." said Moman. "For all that talk about them being 'elite' and 'chosen', it looks like they're forced to stay in the conclave, sheltered from the outside world."

"We did that to the people of Ibara ourselves." argued Genj. "I don't see why they feel trapped now."

"But there's a difference." countered Moman. "Our means were identical, but to different ends. And the Ravinians know it. Besides, at least under the Tribunal, people were allowed to visit other parts of the island. Here, they're just trapped in the conclave. I believe the only people who truly benefit from the new order are Veego and LaBerge."

"Hmmm..." pondered Genj. An idea was slowly forming in the corners of his mind. He turned to Moman and Drea. "Can you think of some way to broadcast a message across the entire village?"

"Broadcast a message across the entire village..." muttered Moman, looking both puzzled and thoughtful.

"I have an idea!" said Drea. "The Communications Center in Tribunal Mountain! The controls for the emergency broadcast siren and the telephone system are in the same room. If we switched the cables..."

"...Then any telephone call will be broadcast over the emergency lines for the whole village to hear!" finished Genj. "Drea, that's _brilliant_!"

"But why..." began Moman.

"You'll see." Genj interrupted. "On to Tribunal Mountain!"

Genj, Moman, and Drea left the conclave and headed up the path to Tribunal Mountain, the Flighters scrambling along in their wake. Here and there, dados lay strewn across the ground, completely immobile and unresponsive. A few Flighters kept shooting bewildered looks at the dados, and one or two of them threw savage kicks at the mechanical men. Finally, they arrived at the vast, opulent palace surrounding Tribunal Mountain.

Inside, the palace was bedecked in colorful flags and draped in rich carpeting. Statues and paintings decorated the halls, and ornate chandeliers illuminated every square inch of space. Genj noticed that some rooms were painted in flamboyant colors and filled with balloons, toys, and stuffed clowns, whereas others were decorated with a kind of reserved elegance, containing simple but fashionable furniture and lighting.

All of a sudden, Veego and LaBerge rounded the corner, and froze, staring from the three members of the Tribunal to the mass of filthy, ragged Flighters behind them.

LaBerge let out a high-pitched scream and staggered backward, clutching his face. Veego simply stood frozen, rigid with shock and horror, mouth agape. Seconds passed. Nobody made any noise apart from LaBerge, who continued to scream. Finally, Veego said hoarsely, "What have you done? What happened to the dados?"

"We don't know." said Genj coldly. "They simply shut off while they were trying to blast us out of the bay. Certainly odd, but we're not about to complain."

"It doesn't matter!" blustered LaBerge, who had finally stopped screaming. "The Ravinians will not stand for this!"

"No, they will not." agreed Veego, who looked shaken but defiant. "You are fighting against the chosen, against the strong, the greatest individuals alive. They have the will to resist. They will defeat you."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Genj said lightly. He stepped forwards, looking straight into Veego's cold eyes. "My belief is that it is _you_ they will defeat."

Veego blinked. She looked completely bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you honestly believe that you are acting in the best nature of those people?" said Genj.

"Of course we are!" said LaBerge without hesitation. "They live in paradise! We give them everything they could ever want."

"Except their freedom." said Moman.

"They are forced to stay inside the conclave, helpless and imprisoned." said Genj fiercely. "Spin it whichever way you like, but it doesn't change the fact that the Ravinians are just as trapped as those unfortunates in the Horizon Compounds. You tell them they are the elite, but you don't allow them to thrive. You're their jailers. You just sit up here, living in luxury, while they're forced to stay where you can keep an eye on them."

"You're twisting it." said Veego fiercely. "You'll see. The Ravinians will not sit by idly as their way of life is threatened.

"How about we settle this once and for all?" said Genj. "Allow me to prove my point. Which way is the entrance to Tribunal Mountain?"

"What makes you think we'll tell you?" snapped Veego.

"You say that as if you believe you have a choice in this matter." said Genj, and the Flighters stepped forward as one.

Veego glared at Genj. LaBerge sniffed, his eyes brimming with tears. Finally, Veego said, "This way," and set off at a brisk trot. The Tribunal followed, along with the crowd of Flighters. After several twists and turns, they emerged into a vast courtyard full of elegant fountains and beautifully trimmed topiary. Then, Genj, Drea, Moman, Veego, and LaBerge entered a tunnel on the other side of the courtyard, arriving inside Tribunal Mountain.

"Stay here." Genj commanded the Flighters. If they needed to make a quick escape, the Flighters would cut off their way out. LaBerge seemed immensely relieved that the Flighters would not be coming, but Veego's face remained coldly apprehensive.

"We're not coming in unguarded." said Genj harshly, snapping a look at LaBerge, whose smile instantly slid off his face. "We're going to be accompanied by the six senior members of our security force."

At these words, the Flighters parted, and the six senior officers of the Rayne security force stepped forward, looking grim but determined.

Tribunal Mountain seemed almost unchanged, the illuminated tunnels the same as ever. The only difference was the countless dados lying immobile upon the floor.

At last, Genj, Moman, and Drea arrived at the Communications Center. The master controls for Rayne's basic communications system seemed to be exactly the same as they always were. Genj breathed a sigh of relief. The first part of his plan was going to work. But would the next phase prove as successful?

"Wait outside the room." Genj said to the six officers, who promptly stood against the wall. The Tribunal entered the Communications Center, quickly followed by Veego and LaBerge.

"What are you doing?" asked LaBerge nervously, his voice trembling.

"Oh, you won't want to miss this." said Genj. "I'm going to prove my point to you."

Despite his confident words, Genj felt an icy hand of anxiety gripping his chest. What if he was wrong? What if the Ravinians didn't feel trapped, and _would_ resist the Tribunal? But he couldn't think like that; he had to be strong.

The Communications Center was a very simple room; containing only a few desks, a small, rectangular telephone, a pair of boxes covered in buttons and switches—and the two master cables, one which controlled the emergency broadcast siren, and one which controlled the telephone network. Without hesitation, Genj crossed the room, seized both cables, and pulled them out of the wall.

LaBerge gasped; Drea, Moman, and Veego all looked faintly bewildered. Quickly, Genj took the master telephone cable and inserted it into the other jack. He then crossed the room, sat down in front of a box labeled emergency broadcast siren, and flipped a red switch. Instantly, lights in the ceiling began to flash red. Genj knew that all over Rayne, red lights would be blinking and flashing...but the usual wailing klaxon was eerily absent. Then, Genj pulled the telephone towards him, and began to speak into it.

"This is a message to all the Ravinians of the Rayne Conclave."

Genj knew it had worked. As he spoke, his voice emanated from the surrounding walls, as the emergency siren had done many times before, and he knew that the message would also be ringing from every corner of the Conclave of Ravinia.

"As you are all aware, the dados no longer function. The Tribunal has invaded Ibara with an army of Flighters. Veego and LaBerge will shortly be brought to justice."

Veego's face went white, and LaBerge burst into tears again.

"But it isn't enough to force Ravinia to surrender. Ibara, as well as all of Veelox, cannot truly be reborn unless it is the people who decide their own fate. Ravinians, you are yourselves prisoners. When have you ever been allowed to truly be yourselves, or even to leave your conclave? In embracing Ravinia, you have waived your right to choose your own destiny.

"However, it isn't too late. If you are ready to join us, to think for yourselves and guide your own futures, leave the conclave and march to the palace. Present yourself...show us you won't stand for the teachings of Ravinia any longer. The Tribunal is waiting."

With that, Genj shut off the telephone, and stood up.

"Well...let's go outside, and see who was listening."

"Your pretty little speech will have no effect." snapped Veego, although Genj could see beads of sweat on her forehead now. "The Ravinians here haven't given up."

Genj ignored her. The Tribunal swept out of the room, Veego and LaBerge hurrying after them. Genj beckoned the six officers to follow them, and they shortly left Tribunal Mountain, rejoining the army of Flighters.

The Flighters parted to allow the eleven individuals to pass, then began to follow the group. Back through the palace they marched, before arriving back in the jungle.

"What now?" asked Drea.

"We wait." replied Genj. "Either the Ravinians will come...or they won't."

Minutes stretched by painfully. Veego and LaBerge's smiles grew more smug with every passing moment. Genj began to lose confidence. If he had been wrong...

But then, the unmistakeable sounds of movement came through the trees. People were coming out of the jungle! Ten...twenty...thirty...forty...a hundred...two hundred...all of them wearing bright, tropical clothing and tattooed with the green star of Ravinia. It looked as if everyone in the conclave had turned out to renounce Ravinia. Veego's jaw dropped. LaBerge trembled.

"Are you ready to take back Veelox?" shouted Genj, looking around at everyone.

The resounding roar of the crowd shook the trees and sent birds flying off into the blue.

Genj's heart swelled. The time had truly come to revive Veelox. It was not, perhaps, exactly the way the great Aja Killian had envisioned centuries ago, but it did not matter.

"Stay where you are." barked a voice. Genj, Moman, and Drea wheeled around. Veego and LaBerge had tried to make a run for it, but were now being gripped by eight officers from the security team of Ibara.

* * *

Four months later, the island of Ibara had once again been transformed. The walls of the Conclave of Ravinia had been torn down, as had most of the structures within it, and a large number of huts had already been rebuilt. The Horizon Compounds across the island had been torn down, and in their place, new villages were being constructed...villages far larger than any that had previously existed on Ibara, with the exception of Rayne. Veego and LaBerge's palace had been demolished, and Tribunal Mountain was bustling again.

Perhaps the most wonderful development, however, was the new fleet of brightly colored sailing ships now tied to a pier on the other side of the island. These would be the ships that would carry the new Pilgrims of Rayne across the ocean and enable them to establish colonies on the mainland, as Aja Killian had always planned. The first attempt a few years ago had ended in disaster, but due to the new era of peace forged with the Flighters, the Pilgrimage was bound to succeed this time. Indeed, a large group of Flighters would be accompanying the Pilgrims, advising them on the best places to land, and how to survive in the outside world. After so much preparation, the Pilgrimage would set sail today.

It was quite ironic, Genj reflected, that Ravinia had been the very force that caused the Tribunal and the Flighters to join forces. The Ravinians had always been about dividing up society, and yet it ultimately led to unity.

Genj stared out at the sea, as the Pilgrim ships sailed away from Ibara, out over the glassy, tropical waters of Veelox, and stayed in that spot long after the ships had disappeared over the horizon.


	10. Zadaa, Part 2

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Zadaa ~**

"We must rest well." commanded Saangi. "We have a great battle ahead of us tomorrow."

Many weeks had passed since Saangi and her party of Batu warriors had arrived in the Xhinna village. With the exception of mothers taking care of infants, every man, woman, and child from the village had agreed to attack Xhaxhu and defeat Ravinia. It had taken far longer to return to Xhaxhu than it had to leave it, as they could not accommodate everyone with their small group of dygos. They had had to march around the Kidik Ocean, making periodic rests. Fortunately, several edible plants now grew around the great ocean, and they managed to harvest enough food to keep everyone nourished.

This was the final rest period before the battle. The gleaming pyramids and towers of Xhaxhu had appeared on the horizon.

The air was thick with tension. The Xhinna had brought along their spiked armor, a variety of menacing diamond-bladed daggers, and knuckledusters with razor-sharp edges. Nevertheless, the battle would be difficult. The dados were numerous and unfeeling.

Saangi felt as though she had only slept for minutes. The next thing she knew, the sun was rising, and it was time to attack. "It is time." she called to those people who were awake, and they hastened to wake up their sleeping comrades. Before long, the army was marching towards the distant city, prepared to fight.

_Paf!_

A silver arrow whizzed through the air and caught one of the Xhinna warriors in his bare chest. There was a great flash of light, and he had turned into a charred pile of ash.

The Xhinna stopped dead, utterly bewildered. None of them had ever seen anything like this before.

_Paf! Paf! Paf!_

Several more Xhinna were incinerated. "Charge!" yelled Saangi, and the enormous army surged forwards. The Xhinna and Batu armor blocked the energy of the arrows, but anyone who was hit on their skin was fried.

Despite the losses, the army surged on. Saangi couldn't believe their bravery. Even the children, some of whom looked no more than five, continued to press forward. She supposed that they had all fought before many times against marauding cannibals, and that today, they were motivated by the promise of a safer existence.

At last, they arrived at the wall of Xhaxhu. Several Xhinna smashed the gate open, and the army poured into the great city. As it had been when the Batu had escaped, the beautiful edifices and statues of the Batu had been covered up with a metal skin or replaced with more abstract designs, and the previously unpaved streets were covered in crushed quartz. The only difference was that no Ravinians were visible on the previously crowded streets. However, a massive force of dados was marching towards them in perfect formation, each armed with the sinister arrows. As fearsome as the Xhinna were, Saangi didn't see how they would be able to stop the dados.

She got her answer.

_Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!_

The Xhinna warriors in the front slung their diamond knives at the approaching foes. The hard blades punched through the dados as though they were made of butter, destroying the front few lines. The first line of Xhinna then scattered, and the second line stepped forward, hurling their knives just as the first line had done. Meanwhile, the people from the first line dashed to the side and attacked the dados from the left and right, slamming them with savage punches. Judging from the way the dados crumpled, the knuckledusters were made of diamond too.

It was an aggressive battle strategy, but the dados were beginning to fight back. A series of _paf_s rang through the air as the dados launched their deadly arrows. The Xhinna began to realize that their armor protected them from the arrows, and started moving their bodies to make sure the arrows made contact only with their armor. Though this tactic protected them from the effects of the arrows, the force of the impact often sent them sprawling, leaving them vulnerable to another shot. The shining streets were soon littered with fallen dados and piles of ash.

The Batu were also fighting fiercely, and it wasn't just Saangi's party. Apparently bolstered by the sight of such a strong army daring to challenge the might of Ravinia, Batu slaves were bursting out of buildings to join the fray, attacking the dados with staves and whatever makeshift weapons they could find or create. A few Rokador emerged from their houses, trying in vain to stop their slaves, but most darted back inside immediately as they saw what was happening outside.

Saangi saw Zushan and a large group of Xhinna moving towards her, mounted on horses they had clearly stolen from the Xhaxhu stables. "We are going to Mooraj to liberate the rest of your people!" he called out to her as the horses galloped past.

"Good luck!" Saangi yelled back, turning her attention to a pair of dados bearing down on her. She skillfully knocked the bows out of their hands with a sweep of her stave, and a Xhinna appeared behind the dados, finishing them off with colossal punches that burrowed deep into their mechanical chests.

An arrow whizzed through the air and bounced off of Saangi's armor, throwing her off balance and knocking her to the ground. A dado appeared from nowhere and looked down at her with lifeless doll-like eyes, taking aim with its bow. All of a sudden, a dagger burst out of the dado's chest, scattering wires and pieces of metal all over the ground. Saangi rolled away as the dado collapsed on the spot where she had been lying, and she straightened up in time to knock aside another dado that was aiming its bow at the Xhinna who had thrown the dagger.

How long the battle had gone on so far, Saangi couldn't have said. It might have been ten minutes, or three hours, or maybe two suns. It was all a blur of dados and Xhinna and arrows and daggers. She couldn't tell who had suffered the most losses, either; one moment, she would be surrounded by bow-carrying dados, the next, she would be part of a throng of yelling, charging Batu and Xhinna, sweeping aside the dados as though they weren't even there. And, despite the fact that the remains of dados, Xhinna, and Batu were piling up everywhere, the clashing armies seemed as large as ever.

However, as the battle progressed, it seemed to Saangi that the dados were getting the upper hand. As they weren't flesh and blood, they barely reacted to heavy blows that would have knocked out any human warrior. What was more, as the Batu and Xhinna began to reach the end of their strength, the dados started to overwhelm them. It seemed like only a matter of time before the warriors were overpowered by the dados.

Without warning, Saangi was hit from behind. A dado who had evidently lost its bow in the fight had punched her in the back of the head. Saangi's head was swimming so badly that she didn't even feel herself hit the ground. Through the mist clouding her eyes, Saangi saw a second dado train its bow on her. There was nothing she could do.

And then, suddenly, it was all over.

The _paf_s of the arrows fell silent. Moments later, so did the clangs and thumps of the Xhinna and the Batu, and an eerie silence fell. _I am dead_, Saangi thought dully. _I am dead. That dado must have shot me. I have failed as a warrior. As an acolyte. I have failed the Travelers._

Saangi's head stopped spinning, but continued to throb painfully. She became aware that she was still lying upon the crushed quartz of the streets of Xhaxhu. Did that mean she was still alive after all?

Slowly, tentatively, Saangi raised her head and looked around. She saw hundreds of Batu and Xhinna looking around, dumbstruck. The dados had fallen to the ground as one, completely immobile. Rubbing her head gingerly, Saangi got to her feet. What had happened? Why had the dados frozen and collapsed as they had?

There was a rumble overhead. Unnoticed by the battling Batu and Xhinna, dark gray clouds had formed overhead, and a light rain was falling over the city. Then, Saangi heard footsteps. A Ravinian Rokador had emerged from his house, looking stupefied. Several more Ravinians appeared from their doors, speechless with shock. The street was suddenly swarming with as many Rokador as Batu and Xhinna. Then, one of the Ravinians sank to his knees and began to sob. Several others followed suit, and many more flung their arms around the startled Batu, shaking with horror and misery. Saangi found herself patting a moaning woman on the back, glancing at the star tattooed on her arm, as she wailed, "How has it come to this?"

The sound of galloping horses met Saangi's ears. Zushan's party had returned. Two filthy, disheveled Batu sat on each horse, clinging on to the Xhinna in front. Everyone dismounted, looking around in awe at the horrific carnage of the great battle.

Nobody voiced aloud what was to be done next. There was no need. Everyone, it seemed, had unanimously decided what the proper course of action was to be. All over the city, Rokador, Batu, and Xhinna worked together to clean up the fallen dados and remains of the dead.

* * *

Over the course of many weeks, the city of Xhaxhu began to transform. The red flags with the Ravinian stars were all torn from the tops of the great pyramids. The metal skins were removed, the crystal pavement dug up. The Rokador reused these materials to create new buildings and roads on the other side of the river running through Xhaxhu, assisted by the Xhinna. Meanwhile, the Batu set about restoring the city of Xhaxhu to its former glory.

One morning, Saangi heard a knock at her door, and opened it to find a Rokador woman standing in front of her. "You are to come to the palace." she said.

Saangi walked alongside the woman through the streets of Xhaxhu. Though the city was beginning to look more like the Xhaxhu Saangi remembered, it would take years, perhaps decades, before it returned to the way it once was.

The royal palace, for instance, was still far different than it had been before Ravinia had conquered Zadaa. The silver skin of metal covering the pyramid was gone, but the carved steps were gone, as were the ornate statues covering the structure. There was no getting around it. Saint Dane's mark still marred Zadaa.

A large table had been placed in the throne room of the palace. Seated at the table were Zushan, the former king and queen of the Batu, Khalek and Shinsha a Zinj, and Biddyko, the recently elected leader of the Rokador.

Saangi bowed to them. "How may I be of service?" she asked respectfully.

"Recent events have left the civilized tribes of the world in considerable disarray." said Khalek a Zinj slowly.

"We need someone to lead us." said Zushan. "Someone who understands the plight of the people of Zadaa...someone who will go to any lengths to see that their needs are placed before the petty desires of the privileged few."

"The royal family of Zinj has always produced the wisest and greatest of leaders." replied Saangi, inclining her head towards Khalek and Shinsha.

"Yet I fear that our tired old dynasty has lost its way." said Khalek, shaking his head wearily.

"Our inability to stand up to Ravinia speaks volumes." said Shinsha, staring at her feet in shame."

"It does not mean you are not wise." countered Saangi fiercely.

"Wise or not, we are growing old." said Khalek. "We are not the people we once were. And the heir to our throne, Pelle, is dead. The Zinj dynasty is over."

"Biddyko and I will govern our own people," said Zushan, "But we could never rule over the Batu in the way that your people deserve. Your own traditions of leadership must be preserved."

"Then who shall lead the Batu?"

"That is why we have summoned you here." said Biddyko solemnly. "We wish _you_ to lead the Batu."

There was a long silence. Saangi stood there, her mouth agape, unable to believe what she had just heard.

"You wish..._me_...to take the crown?"

"You are the perfect choice for a leader." said Shinsha. "Not only are you courageous and determined to ensure the safety of your people, but you also understand the importance of the bond between the Batu and Rokador...and of the new bond with the Xhinna. We will have no one else."

Saangi trembled with shock. If only Loor could see her now! She had saved Zadaa..._and _been asked to govern the Batu! Saangi believed that Loor would be a far better choice for the throne...but, as she was off saving Halla...

She stepped forward solemnly. Khalek rose to his feet, removed his crown, and placed it upon Saangi's head. "I declare you Saangi a Xhinsota, Queen of the Batu."

Saangi knew that rebuilding Zadaa would be the greatest challenge of her life. But it was _her_ responsibility now. She knew that no matter how driven the people of Zadaa were to create a better world, everything could be lost if she failed as a leader. But she would _not_ fail. She could not. She would prove herself capable. Not just to the Batu, but to the Travelers. To Loor. To Halla.


	11. Eelong, Part 2

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Eelong ~**

It had been a long day of traveling, but Leeandra was once more in sight.

The massive party of zenzens, carrying both klees and gars, was heading back for the great treetop city. The zenzens seemed exhausted, and some of them were stumbling, their spindly, multi-jointed legs wobbling alarmingly. They had taken very few breaks on their journey, intent to arrive back in Leeandra as soon as possible. Boon now suspected that it made little difference—as the zenzens tired, they started to slow down. But it didn't matter now; they had reached their destination.

And something was definitely wrong.

"Smoke!" shouted Boon, pointing at Leeandra.

The group attempted to spur on their zenzens, but the beasts had had enough. They refused to go any faster.

"Dismount the zenzens! Proceed on foot!" said Boon, sliding off his mount. The klees and gars hastily copied him, and sprinted in the direction of Leeandra, the smell of smoke filling their nostrils.

"The outer wall has been breached!" exclaimed a gar.

He was quite right. The wall seemed to have been knocked down in places, creating large gaps. The sound of crackling flames reached Boon's ears, in addition to the sound of ferocious snarling. The smell of smoke tickled his throat, and he thought that he could smell something else underneath...something like rotting fish...

Boon's stomach plummeted. He had a feeling that he knew _exactly _what was going on. And as he stepped through one of the holes in the wall, feeling a searing wave of heat wash over him, his fears were confirmed.

Tangs.

For the first time in living memory, the monstrous, reptilian, green-haired, beasts seemed to be carrying out a complex, strategic assault on Leeandra. They had smashed through the walls and were rampaging through the city, destroying whatever they could lay their vicious claws on. From the looks of things, they had even started a fire.

Boon wheeled around. "There's no time to lose." he said. "We can't send signals over the system in the Center anymore, but does anyone have a two-way link communicator?"

One of the gars raised her hand.

"Good. I'll take one of them and enter Leeandra in search of the leader of Ravinia. You stay out here—all of you—and when I give the signal, I'll need the gars to call off the tangs with those whistles of yours. Then, I'll need the klees to go inside and rescue as many citizens as possible. Got that?"

Everyone nodded. Boon took one of the two small amber cubes from the gar's hand, and sprinted forwards into the inferno.

He sprinted past burning buildings and ravenous tangs, heading for the Circle of Ravinia. He wondered whether the leader of Ravinia would be willing to listen to what he had to say. Boon hoped so. He was, after all, an old friend of Kasha's. But it didn't really matter whether or not he would listen or not. No matter what happened in Boon's search, he would give the signal eventually.

The Circle of Ravinia was completely engulfed in fire. Ignoring the searing heat, Boon grabbed onto the side of the great tree on which the building had been constructed, and began to climb as fast as he could.

When he reached the top, he immediately saw his quarry. A large klee with gray fur, and the blue tunic and carved staff of viceroy, was dangling from the edge of a platform which seemed to be giving way. On the ground, several tangs had clustered beneath him, looking hungry. Boon stepped across the burning platform towards the klee, whose eyes widened in shock as he saw who was coming towards him.

"Boon." he whispered.

"Durgen." replied Boon. "I'm here to save you." he held out a paw.

Durgen made no move to seize the paw, but glowered at Boon, fangs bared. "Do you think I'm not aware of what you've done?"

Boon stared at Durgen, puzzled.

"You have committed crimes against Ravinia. You led the klees of the Horizon Compound out of the city, to incite revolution. Such an act is treason."

A flaming chunk of wood fell past Durgen. Neither of the two klees paid it any heed.

"You've backed the wrong side, Durgen." said Boon calmly. "You always have. Ravinia is finished. Not just on Eelong, but on every world. Saint Dane is dead. His spirit ceased to exist when the Ravinians of Third Earth rejected his philosophy. All over Halla, Ravinia will crumble, and the worlds will return to the way they were before."

Every word Boon spoke seemed almost like a physical blow to Durgen. He dropped his gaze.

"But you don't have to die with it, Durgen. Take my hand, and we can make things right. Eelong can once again flourish. But first, you must accept that the gars are an equal race."

Durgen looked up, silently staring at Boon's outstretched paw. His expression darkened.

"No! No, I can't do it. They are animals! ANIMALS! And if the society of the new world says anything else, I don't want to be a part of it!"

With that, Durgen let go, and plummeted to the ground. Boon watched as he fell, hit the forest floor, and was immediately pounced upon by the tangs.

Suddenly, the platform underneath Boon's feet shuddered and cracked. Boon lunged and caught a vine hanging from another tree, and swung onto another platform. The new platform, however, seemed just as unstable as the old one, and, with a crunch, gave way entirely. Quickly, Boon grabbed another tree, held on fast with the claws of his left paw, and turned on the amber cube in his right hand. "NOW!" he shouted.

At once, a faint whistling sound started. The tangs stopped in their tracks. Then, they began to scamper away, out of Leeandra.

Boon quickly climbed down the tree and spoke into the cube once more. "The tangs are gone. It is time to save as many klees as we can."

* * *

The task that was facing them was daunting. Boon was well aware of that fact. Not only did they have to rebuild Black Water, they would also have to rebuild Leeandra. However, Boon knew that it would be possible.

The spirit of cooperation in the air was almost tangible. Klees and gars worked together, rebuilding both the city of Leeandra and the village of Black Water. The Circle of Ravinia was once again renamed the Circle, and Boon had been chosen as one of the viceroys. The other viceroy was a gar by the name of Gursh. Under their leadership, the two great settlements were slowly looking more like their old selves. The innovative ideas and inventions of the gars made the task easier. Boon found himself journeying back and forth between each settlement almost every day. Each time he arrived at one, he marveled at how much things had progressed there.

But the best part was that it seemed the tide really was turning. Ravinia had fallen on Third Earth, and now it had fallen on Eelong. Surely it was only a matter of time before the other worlds began to turn. Or perhaps they already had.

Boon was flying above the forest canopy in a gig, heading for Black Water. It was an overcast day; the catcher crystals would not be able to absorb any sunlight for power. Until recently, this would have meant that the gigs were grounded, but thanks to a gar invention, the gigs were capable of storing energy caught in the crystals, so the gig could still fly.

_So much has changed_, thought Boon, as the mountains slowly came into view. _And we're just getting started_.


	12. Quillan, Part 2

**Quillan ~**

The early evening silence of Rune was shattered by running footsteps. A man in a plain, tattered old suit dashed up the street, followed by a pair of men in crisp, green uniforms and gold helmets.

"You won't take me! Ravinia will never take me!" howled Pwargenn Turfila, sprinting over piles of garbage. "I'm never going back to the tarz! Or the Horizon Compound! Or...anywhere! I'm not living by Ravinia's rules any longer, you hear me? I'm not going to come quietly!"

In unison, the dados raised the golden rifles held at their sides.

_Fum!_

A pulse of energy shot past Pwargenn, missing him by inches. At once, he threw himself sideways, dodging the second blast.

It had been just as he had feared. The instant he stepped off the train, the dados had surrounded him. It seemed that they had been warned he would be coming. But they had not been warned about how recklessly frenzied their quarry would be.

Pwargenn had shoved past the dados before the train's doors had even stopped sliding open. He had leapt across the platforms on pure adrenaline, sprinted through the entrance hall, and dashed out onto the street. But it wasn't going to be that easy; two of the dados managed to track him down, and he ran for it, the dados hot on his heels.

It wouldn't be all that difficult to find a hiding place out here in Rune. Pwargenn knew that the Revivers had hidden from the Blok security forces for countless quads, living in the abandoned mall complex beneath the city. The hard part would be shaking off the pursuing dados long enough to hide himself.

_Fum! Fum!_

Pwargenn instantly dived to the ground and rolled, and the shots flew over his head, shattering a window in a store simply marked with the name FOOD. Springing to his feet, he charged off in a new direction, dashing down a hidden alley. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw to his dismay that the dados were still giving chase.

_Fum!_

One of the shots passed so low over his head that his hair stood on end. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever. Sooner or later, the dados would either catch up to him, or shoot him. He needed to find a hiding place, and quickly.

He turned into another alley, and saw a pair of dented, dusty trash cans. This could be his only chance. He pulled the lid off one of them, dived inside, and slammed the trash can shut.

Sitting inside the dark, cramped space, heart pounding, Pwargenn waited. Any moment, he expected to hear the sounds of the dados marching past the trash can...but he heard nothing. He sat there, confused. Could the dados have taken a wrong turn? It didn't seem likely. Pwargenn wanted to peek his head out and see if the dados were there, but if they were, his cover would instantly be blown. The seconds slowly became minutes, and Pwargenn still didn't hear any noise. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him, and he lifted the lid slightly.

A quick three-sixty showed Pwargenn that the dados were not in the alley. But were they gone? How could he be sure the dados weren't lying in wait around another corner? Slowly, cautiously, Pwargenn closed the lid again. He would wait even longer, just to make sure.

After what seemed like hours, Pwargenn finally got the courage to emerge from the trash can. He walked back the way he had come, and carefully peered around the corner of the building. What he saw made absolutely no sense.

The dados had not left. But Pwargenn immediately saw that he was in no danger. The pair of them lay motionless on the ground. Deactivated. Turned off. Dead.

Pwargenn didn't understand. Why had the dados suddenly shut down?

But a second later, Pwargenn saw something far more incredible and bizarre. The great screens mounted on the skyscrapers of Rune were winking to life. How could that be? It had been many quads since the tarz had been busy, after all; the screens were only used to inform the citizens of reassignment, and that had of course already happened a few hours ago. He fixed his gaze on the flickering monitors, waiting for something else to happen.

Soon, the image of a gruff, unshaven man was visible from all of the TVs. Pwargenn immediately dashed out of the alley into the main street, to get a better view. He wasn't the only one. Everywhere, people were stepping out of the ruined shops and gazing in wonder at the screens. Many young children, too young to have ever seen the screens in action, seemed terrified. Most of the adults seemed highly apprehensive, too.

"Greetings, citizens of Rune," boomed the man. "My name is Larba Towwan. As far as I know, I am the last reviver on Quillan."

The atmosphere on the streets changed at once, everyone seeming to breathe a sigh of relief. The people of Rune had feared that the broadcast was coming from the Conclave of Ravinia, or from Blok.

"I am speaking to you from an abandoned broadcast center on the outskirts of the city. My message is going out to the impoverished masses on the streets, and to the Conclave of Ravinia. There is enough power left for me to convey my message to you all, and I beg you will listen. For I am asking that we work together to change the course of our wrecked world.

"Quillan is dead. You who roam the streets of Rune and scavenge whatever you can just to survive know this fact well. I know that many of you in the Conclave of Ravinia suspect this as well. Blok and Ravinia have dismantled our society in the name of their own interests. Yet you in the Conclave are not to blame. You were dragged along just as much as your poor brothers outside your walls. You were told that you were the elite. The chosen. That you would be the future of your world. Yet you were shepherded into gilded cages and hidden away from the outside world. And though you are supposedly the governing body of Quillan, still you take care to stay out of Blok's way!"

The people on the street stood in stunned silence. They had never heard the Ravinians talked about in this manner. Always, they had considered the Ravinians to be the oppressors, but if Larba was to be believed, they were little better off than people like themselves.

"Yet it doesn't have to be this way." continued Larba passionately. "Blok thought they had killed the will of the people to resist when they destroyed Mr. Pop. Yet, though the revival's plans were crushed and most of their number wiped out, we have no less power than we did before. Perhaps more so, because a few hours ago, the dados shut down. Every single one of them. I don't know why this happened, but I do know one thing. It gives us exactly the opportunity we need. With the vision of a better future and the vast resources the Ravinians command, we can at last disband the Blok corporation and create a new Quillan!"

Something unbelievable happened. The people on the streets cheered. They screamed themselves hoarse, and beat their fists in the air. Pwargenn had never seen anything like it. Soon, he was swept up in the positive energy, stamping his feet and cheering.

"Those who are ready to take back their lives, meet at the southern wall of the Conclave of Ravinia. It is at last time for our world to heal."

* * *

The last time that Pwargenn had seen anything like this massive gathering was many quads ago, when the games were still in operation. But the frenzied energy of this vast crowd was different. The people of this crowd weren't gathered here in desperate attempts to win something from Blok. They were here to seize control of their world once more.

The group gathering outside the Conclave of Ravinia was indeed enormous. And it wasn't only the poverty-stricken out on the street. The Ravinians themselves were swarming out of the conclave; they were ready to reunite with their lost brethren from the outside and work for the good of Quillan.

A makeshift raised platform had been constructed in the center of the spectacular crowd. Standing in the center was the reviver, Larba Towwan. Pwargenn could not see him properly, as he stood near the edge of the mass of people. But he could picture him, looking out over the thousands and thousands of faces before him.

"It is time." called out Larba, as the crowd fell silent. "The Trustees know we are gathered here. They know it is the end. We shall march to the Blok building, and show them that neither they nor any part of the Blok Corporation fits into the new future we will create for ourselves!"

The ground trembled beneath the force of the screams and yells and cheers of the crowd. As one, the thousands of people began to march down the street, leaving the Conclave of Ravinia, heading for the Blok building, all the while continuing to roar and scream. Pwargenn thought the energy was almost tangible.

It was amazing, Pwargenn reflected, to think that this same time yesterday, Blok had been as mighty as they had ever been, but suddenly their management was completely powerless. Certainly the loss of the dados had been a powerful factor, but the real catalyst was the will of the people. Blok's existence depended on its menial workers. Once they rose up, the tables were instantly turned.

Pwargenn realized something else. This global demonstration of defiance and revolution completely turned the Ravinian philosophy on its head. The leaders of Ravinia on Quillan preached that humanity was weak, that people always go with the flow and do what is comfortable and easy, rather than working for the good of all. The ultimate goal of Ravinia, they stated, was to breed this weakness out of people by crushing those who did not contribute in a manner that the elite saw fit. But here, Ravinians and non-Ravinians alike were gathering with the self-same goal of instituting positive change. Everyone, from those that Ravinia praised as enlightened to those that Ravinia condemned as flawed, were throwing away their crumbling society, prepared to begin a process that they knew would be painful and arduous, but would benefit all of Quillan.

In short, the Ravinian definition of "strong" and "weak" was completely wrong.

Several minutes later, the group arrived at the front of the Blok building. The screams grew louder. Everyone stamped and shouted and demanded that the Trustees present themselves at the front of the building.

Before long, the nine Trustees emerged, looking terrified. They had spent their entire lives controlling the world, passing judgement with unchecked authority. They had run Blok, and Blok had run everything. Now, however, their grip on power had completely dissolved. Millions of people were staring at them with the utmost hatred in their eyes.

Absolute silence fell. The Trustees stared at the sea of people before them, and they glared right back at the Trustees. "We're not living by your rules anymore!" shouted a voice.

"It isn't our fault." said one of the Trustees. "None of this is our fault. We simply followed our corporate strategy!"

"You _WROTE_ the corporate strategy of Blok!" yelled another voice.

"All we ever did was provide a service!" shouted another Trustee. "You all chose to use it! It's that simple!"

"The only service you ever provided was for yourselves." barked Larba. "Destroying every competing enterprise, forcing us to live in the urban centers, shipping people to the tarz...everything you did was about lining your pockets at our expense! And it's been going on for quite long enough!"

The crowd erupted in a deafening cacophony of screams and insults. The Trustees had had enough. All nine of them jumped down the steps of the Blok headquarters and sprinted away down a side street.

"GET THEM!" the crowd bellowed, and tore off after the fleeing figures. However, the crowd could not run full-pelt, for fear of trampling people in front of them. The Trustees were far less numerous...and none of them cared whether they trampled each other. Concerned only with themselves, the Trustees shoved and pushed each other, trying to get away faster. And it was working; the leaders of Blok were getting away.

The people at the front of the crowd broke into full-out sprints. Pwargenn was among them, and soon made it to the front of the group. "Come on!" urged those behind him. "Catch them! _Catch them_!"

Slowly, Pwargenn was gaining on the Trustees. But they were still far ahead, and they were dashing towards the airport. Pwargenn didn't understand what the Trustees were thinking of; if the dados had been deactivated, there would be no pilots to help them escape. But the Trustees didn't seem to care.

Soon, the Trustees were hurtling up the steps of the airport building, and had disappeared inside. Pwargenn and a handful of other people burst through the doors and tore off through terminal in the direction of the fleeing directors of Blok. Most of the planes in Rune International Airport, as well as most of the planes all over Quillan, hadn't been flown in several quads. The only exceptions were the sleek, golden corporate jets used by the senior management of Blok. The Trustees were tearing down the long hall, towards the door that led to the private terminal of the corporate jets.

"NO YOU DON'T!" bellowed Pwargenn. He was closer than ever, but the Trustees were already at the door. One of them was frantically swiping an activation card, and the door was sliding open. And now the Trustees were through the door, which was sliding shut again.

Pwargenn was mere feet from the door when it sealed itself once more with a metallic _clang_. He beat his fists hopelessly against the door, but it did not give.

Other people were now catching up to Pwargenn. Several of them slammed and kicked the door with all their might, but failed to create so much as a scratch.

_Fum! Fum! Fum!_

One man in the crowd had produced a golden dado gun, and was shooting energy charges at the door. However, the blasts were no more effective than any of the other attempts. People began to grab whatever large objects weren't nailed into place, using them as makeshift battering rams, but the door did not give way.

All of a sudden, there came a muffled roar from outside, and the shouting, frenzied crowd stopped in their tracks, turning slowly as one to face the glass windowpanes that looked out onto one of the runways. A small, golden aircraft tore across the tarmac, weaving and wobbling as it shot by.

"The Trustees are escaping!" a woman screamed with rage.

_Fum! Fum!_

The man with the dado gun fired desperately at the window in the direction the aircraft, shattering several panes of glass, but the wildly swerving plane was moving far too fast to hit. Small showers of sparks erupted whenever one of the wings scraped the asphalt of the runway. The people in the terminal could only watch helplessly as the Trustees' corporate jet shakily rose off the ground, soared into the gray blanket of clouds, and vanished.

"They'll crash." said a heavyset, mustached man confidently. "The Trustees don't know anything about flying a jet. They've always had dados in the cockpit."

"It doesn't matter if they crash or not." said Pwargenn. "Wherever they go, they can't run from their problems. They will rule Quillan no longer. Blok is finished."

"Well said!" exclaimed Larba, clapping Pwargenn on the shoulder. "The first step of the Revival has been completed. But tearing down the old regime was the easy part, I'm afraid; it'll be far harder to build a new one."

* * *

About a week after the Trustees had been toppled from power, Larba announced that there was to be a meeting in the vast, underground complex of malls beneath the city of Rune. Once, these malls had housed the myriad shopping enterprises of Quillan, offering protection from the bitter cold of the Rune winters. When Blok rose to power, the entrances to the malls were boarded up, and the citizens of Rune were banned from entering the complex. Eventually, the place was forgotten and abandoned, save for the Revivers, who hid in the malls while they attempted to formulate plans to restore Quillan to its former glory.

Larba and a group of newly-enlisted Revivers, including Pwargenn, guided the citizens of Rune to the sealed-off entrances, forced entry, and organized everybody. Almost none of those present had ever seen the underground malls, and they took in their surroundings in absolute amazement, staring at the various stores advertising countless products and limitless services, crumbling and dilapidated but still bearing the evidence of their former glory. Most of the shelves were stripped bare, though a few still held some dusty electronics or yellowed books.

A raised platform had been erected in front of a store that was completely obscured by a steel shutter. The crowd gathered around it, and a few minutes later, Larba stepped onto the platform.

"People of Rune," said Larba, gazing over the mass of wide-eyed faces, "as you all know, the Blok Corporation and the Conclave of Ravinia are no more. And yet, the damage they have wrought still remains. Currently, our society is in turmoil. We need direction. We need a guiding voice to show us the way, to help us in our quest to take back what we lost. And this guiding voice lies in the old store directly behind me." He gestured to the store blocked off by the steel shutter. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...Mr. Pop!"

There was complete silence. Nobody seemed to be breathing. People looked around in utter bewilderment, convinced that they must not have heard correctly.

"Mr. Pop?" said Pwargenn incredulously, stepping onto the platform. Larba had not informed him that this was to be the reason for the gathering. "Surely that's impossible. The archives of Mr. Pop were destroyed by the Blok security force over a hundred quads ago."

"Yes." agreed Larba. "It was what the senior management of Blok feared above all else. The knowledge of the past. They didn't want us to know that our world was ever anything other than what Blok had turned it into. When they discovered the existence of a library containing an extensive collection of knowledge about the history of Quillan, they had it destroyed. It crushed the plans of the Revival...or so they thought."

The crowd was more confused than ever, and yet they hung on every word Larba spoke.

"Did you really think that the Revivers were foolhardy enough to put all their eggs in one basket? To place everything Blok wanted destroyed in a single spot? That we didn't realize that it was inevitable that one day, Blok would uncover the archives of Mr. Pop, no matter what security precautions we took?"

"Do you mean to tell us that there was more than one Mr. Pop?" gasped Pwargenn.

"No, there was only one archive like that on Quillan. However, we didn't put everything we had inside the library of Mr. Pop. We entrusted some of it to the senior Revivers...had them hide their portion in fireproof containers all over the world."

"I was a Reviver before Mr. Pop was destroyed." said an old man skeptically. "I was pretty close to Tylee Magna, too. She was the leader of the Revivers, and I learned a lot about their security measures from her. She never said anything about creating separate records of the archives."

"That's because it wasn't Tylee's decision. In fact, it was done in stark violation of her orders. She was afraid that any detailed records of Mr. Pop would make it easier for Blok security to track down the warehouse. But a small number of Revivers knew differently. We understood that the alternative was far riskier. We knew that Mr. Pop had to be cataloged to guarantee the safety of the knowledge it contained.

"We were very methodical about ensuring the records would never be lost. If a Reviver was tracked down and captured by the security forces, we sent another to smuggle that Reviver's box to safety. In case one box could not be retrieved, we had multiple boxes with the same contents in the possession of other Revivers. Though the destruction of the main archive was a terrible blow to the Revival, we anticipated it and prepared for it. Mr. Pop lives on."

With these words, Larba pulled a switch on the side of the platform, and with a grinding creak, the shutters slowly slid open...to reveal that the store behind was filled from ceiling to floor with so many stacks of boxes that there seemed to be no empty space at all. Larba stepped back, lifted down a box, opened it, and pulled out a stack of paper.

"Every single one of these boxes contains hundreds upon hundreds of pages, each with a photograph of something from the library of Mr. Pop and a detailed caption. Even though we may have lost the artifacts themselves, the information of our history will not be forgotten. And these aren't the only boxes...before the other Revivers were hunted down, many hid their boxes in secret locations...there are similar stashes like this all over the world.

"Now, at long last, it is time to share this forgotten history with you. We will use it to guide the Revival...to guide the future of Quillan."

The underground mall shook with cheers. The history of Quillan was not lost after all!

High above the underground mall complex, a ray of dazzling sunlight penetrated the cloudy haze, illuminating the gray remains of the city of Rune. Sunlight wasn't common in this part of the country; this break in the clouds was a rare occurrence indeed, an unusual weather phenomenon. Yet perhaps it was fitting that it should happen on this day...the day that marked the rebirth of a dead world.


	13. Earth

**Fawfulfan's Disclaimer:** The Pendragon Series is the creation of D.J. Machale.

* * *

**~ Earth ~**

An unnatural hush had fallen over the conclave.

Crowds of people, both former Ravinians and outsiders, stood in a great mass, absolutely silent, staring up at the raised platform in front of them. Once upon a time, the flag flying from the pole next to the stage had been a red flag with a black star. The symbol of Ravinia. Today, however, the flag waving in the breeze above the stage was the stars and stripes. That simple change—a different flag—represented a great deal to the people gathered in the conclave, as it had in the years since that change had been put into effect. It was the difference between confinement and liberty. Between the favored few and equality for all. Between free will and forced destiny.

A voice boomed out, echoing across the grassy fields of the conclave. "Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States...Mark Dimond!"

A man with long, black hair and glasses stepped onto the platform, looking out at the sea of faces. As always, Mark felt a pang of nerves at the prospect of addressing them all. But it was his duty to do so, after all. He gave his head a little shake, walked up to the podium, and began to speak.

"People of New York. Today marks the twentieth anniversary of the day that Ravinia fell and Saint Dane was toppled from power. That day marked the your decision to take back your lives. Now, as I look at you all, I see the same look in your eyes that I saw twenty years ago. It is that determination that will allow Halla to once again achieve its former glory...and more.

"Yet we have still not come close to undoing the damage Saint Dane has done. For, through the journals of Bobby Pendragon, the lead Traveler, I have seen what the fifty-first century Earth should have been in. There was no pollution. No overpopulation. No wars. Many people lived underground, allowing the surface world to thrive. There were even millions of people who lived in space colonies. It was a paradise in which man and nature coexisted in harmony.

"Today, we exist in a very different version of the fifty-first century Earth. The Ravinians methodically ensured that they could live in their own paradise. The conclaves were—and are—beautiful places, filled with natural and man-made splendor and luxury. But, as you all know, life outside the conclaves is another story. Once-mighty cities lie in ruins. Many plants and animals no longer exist except inside the conclaves, and pollution fouls the skies. We are all forced to shelter inside the conclaves while we attempt to clean up the mess.

"I am proud to say, however, that we have begun to make progress. The ruins of several cities have been cleared away, and reusable materials have been salvaged. Our sensors detect that the pollution in the atmosphere has fallen slightly. Best of all, recent reports indicate that the people in Chicago, Atlanta, and Boston have actually begun to abandon their conclaves and establish new communities. And it is all thanks to you...the people of Earth.

"When we think about what we have lost, it is always difficult to find the strength to go on. But you have...and you will eventually be rewarded for your courage and dedication. You will be rewarded with a better future...a new Earth!"

The crowd gave a deafening cheer. Everywhere, people were chanting, "A better future!" and "A new Earth!". Mark smiled weakly, turned, and walked back through the curtains at the back of the platform, sighed heavily, and collapsed into a chair next to a beautiful gray-eyed woman in casual clothing.

"No matter how many times I go through that process, I just can't get used to the feeling." Mark said.

"You'd better get used to it, dork. You're the President now." the woman shot back teasingly.

"And you are my Vice President. I don't know how you do it, Courtney. Your confidence never ceases to amaze me."

"But it can't have been that bad." countered Courtney Chetwynde. "I heard you, Mark. You were awesome out there."

"It was you, Courtney. You give me the strength to go on. I couldn't have done it if you hadn't been sitting back here."

"Oh, that is so corny!" scoffed Courtney.

"But it's true. I can't explain it, Courtney. You just...help."

Courtney shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever understand you."

"Nor I you. We've always been leagues apart, you and I. It's why we're a great team."

The two friends laughed and hugged each other. "I know what you mean, Mark." Courtney said. "I couldn't deal if you weren't here with me, either. Becoming politicians three thousand years after you're born is a staggering idea to have to get your head around. I can get around it better if I'm with you."

"Well said." said Mark. "We're in this together to the end, aren't we?"

"Course we are, dork."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."


	14. Solara

**~ Solara ~**

For the first time since they had returned to their natural form, the ten spirits converged on the same spot.

The enigmatic foundation of Halla known as Solara usually appeared differently to each of its spirits, but now, it formed itself into a lush, grassy meadow, just as it had done when they had last been together...when they had still been Travelers.

Now, it was different for them all. They were no longer restricted by the rules that applied to the physical beings of Halla. They were nowhere...and everywhere. They existed inside the collective mind of humanity. They experienced events through the eyes of the beings they entered. But, though they acted as guides to the lost and the confused, they never controlled their decisions, or even suggested the proper course of action. All they did was offer clarity.

However, none of the ten had yet truly experienced the true magnitude of their abilities. They had restricted themselves only to the worlds in which they had existed as Travelers. They had not been forced to do so...it had been their choice, for all of them were especially interested in their own worlds.

Now, they were returning to greet each other once more, and share their recent experiences.

The ten spirits held hands, standing in a circle, saying nothing. Then, as they waited, an eleventh figure slid into focus, standing in the center, and looking around at them all. This new spirit examined the clear blue sky, the colorful, vibrant flowers, the ten faces of the circle. His gaze lingered on one of the spirits, before he spoke.

"So...we are all together again." said Press Tilton. "It feels odd to exist in this form now, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." said a blond girl with yellow-tinted glasses. "I've already gotten used to my natural form."

"So, tell me Aja," Press said, turning to her. "And you, Siry," he added, wheeling to face a dark-skinned boy with long, brown, curly hair. "What has transpired on Veelox since last we spoke?"

"For the most part, we saw what was going on through the eyes of the Tribunal of Ibara." said Aja Killian.

"They formed an alliance with the Flighters and attacked the Conclave of Ravinia." added Siry Remudi. "They really taught Veego and LaBerge a lesson!"

"And they organized another pilgrimage." said Aja, her eyes shining. "Perhaps it wasn't exactly the way I had planned it to be, but it all turned out the same in the end. Veelox is going to be repopulated, and the world will come back to life!"

"Excellent." said Press, before turning to face a dark-skinned warrior girl. "Now, Loor, how are things on Zadaa?"

"I am amazed by what Saangi has done." said Loor. "Not only did she manage to bring about the fall of Ravinia on Zadaa, she also reconnected with the long-lost brethren of the Batu, and became queen of her tribe. I only wish that I could tell her how proud I was of her. She acted with the wisdom of a king and the strength of a warrior."

"You _can_ tell her." said Press. "Even if you can't speak with her, you can still give her the wisdom she needs to be a great ruler. Now, let us hear about recent events on Denduron." He turned to a big knight standing behind him.

"I entered the minds of many on Denduron." said Alder. "I was particularly intrigued by the experiences of Bollod, the rebel leader of the Lowsee. On Denduron, it took a few centuries for Ravinia to collapse. The event that brought it about was a massive tak explosion which blew up a mountain and destroyed the capital city of the Empire. The leader of Ravinia actually realized the error of his ways and worked together with Bollod to create a better world. They even found a far more practical use for tak, which enables the mineral to be used to do good."

"Wonderful." said Press, beaming at Alder before turning to a klee with black fur. "And what about Eelong?"

"I have seen much cooperation and reform." said Kasha brightly. The klees and gars have forged a new era of harmony and prosperity. And Boon is now one of the viceroys!"

"As with Saangi, you can give Boon the wisdom he needs to rule." replied Press.

"Hobey! I guess I should do the same for Yenza!" said a dark young man with long black hair and almond-shaped eyes.

"Absolutely, Spader. How is she, anyway? Come to that, how is Cloral?"

"It was a real nasty-do for a while there, but Ravinia was defeated in the end." said Vo Spader. "And Yenza played an enormous part in the whole thing. It's all spiff."

"Now, Elli, are things better on Quillan?" inquired Press, wheeling around to face an elderly gray-haired woman.

Elli Winter seemed happier than any of the others could ever remember seeing her. "At last, the people of Quillan have started to take back their lives. Ravinia and Blok are no more, and the Revival has finally taken hold. I finally feel as though I'm doing some good in Halla; giving clarity to the people of Quillan has helped to get that world back on track." Elli's face fell, and she said, in a quieter voice, "I just wish that Nevva was here to see it too."

Press laid a hand on Elli's shoulder. "Though misguided, Nevva always intended to do good. She only ever bought into Saint Dane's vision because she thought it was all in the best interests of Halla. I know she would be proud of what you have done."

With that, Press slowly turned to the remaining three spirits; a tall, elderly African-American man, a thin, brown-haired man in simple black clothing, and a boy in his late teens with long, dark hair and brown eyes.

"And what has become of Earth?" Press asked, in a low voice, as he stared at Vincent "Gunny" van Dyke, Patrick Mac, and Bobby Pendragon.

"It's difficult to look at Earth without thinking about the way it should have been." said Gunny.

"Ravinia has done much damage." agreed Patrick. "The healing process will take centuries, perhaps millenia."

"But it has begun." said Bobby. "Mark Dimond has become President of the United States, and he's working hard to revive Earth. I think that, given enough time, that world will heal."

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then, Press said, "Would you like to see the seven worlds of Halla as they are one thousand years after each of their chapters of Ravinia ended?"

The ten spirits in the circle collectively drew a sharp intake of breath.

"We can do that?" said Aja, amazed.

Press chuckled warmly. "Remember, Halla is not merely every place that exists, it is every _time_ that exists. As such, you are not constrained by the same physical laws which limit its inhabitants.

With that, the surroundings began to twist and blur. A moment later, they reformed themselves. "Gaze upon the future of Denduron." said Press.

Alder's mouth fell open.

They were now standing on top of a colossal glacier...a wall of ice at least two miles high. The ice sheet sloped downwards, and at its base was a great city.

"This is one of the many frozen continents which in your time was completely uninhabited." Press explained to Alder. "The use of tak as an energy source rather than a weapon became an engine for a spectacular technological revolution. Denduron now has cars and trains and powered boats, and also special mechanisms called Radiators."

"Radiators?" cut in Bobby. "You mean, like the kind that warms a house?"

"Not quite." said Press. "On Denduron, Radiators use tak to generate specially controlled waves of heat that can manipulate the climate. This process has made sections of the meridian continents warm enough to inhabit. But it doesn't stop there. The advent of tak power also allowed Denduron to develop a globalized economy, which in turn allowed for the free exchange of ideas. This eventually resulted in a worldwide network of fair and democratic governments, not to mention racial equality."

"I do not believe it." whispered Alder.

"Denduron's society isn't perfect, of course. Tak is a nonrenewable resource, and at their current consumption they will exhaust the planet's deposits in five more centuries. But they are even now exploring alternative energy sources, with some success."

Press turned around now, to face Spader again. "Ready to see Cloral?"

"Hobey-ho, Press!"

The scene changed again, and now it was Spader's turn to look shocked.

They were standing on dry land. But it wasn't Faar...this landmass was far larger. It might even have been a continent. All around them were rolling hills and lush forests, with some mountains in the distance. Turning around, they saw another city. This city looked just like the urban habitats of younger Cloral, but it was on land.

"How can this be?" gasped Spader.

"It's all the result of Faarian technology." Press replied. "You see, the Clorans still needed a way of feeding their ever-growing population. They created a radical solution. They built continents all over the planet."

"But how can you 'build' a continent?" said Spader, utterly confused.

"They used essentially the same technology that drove the transpire of Faar." explained Press. "But on a much, much larger scale."

"But that would be so reckless!" interrupted Patrick. "To completely transform the nature of their planet. They might have blocked vital ocean currents and wrecked delicate ecosystems!"

"That's why it took so long." said Press. "The engineers of Faar spent over a hundred years just calculating the precise placement of new landmasses that would have the smallest possible impact on the environment of Cloral. It was actually quite easy ensuring that the landmasses didn't destroy any underwater ecosystems; most of the Cloral ocean is actually completely devoid of life. It's easy to overlook this fact, because the habitats always took care to plot routes that would take them over the most fecund places in the ocean, so there would always be a nearby food source. Harder to factor in were, as you mentioned, the ocean currents. It was impossible to leave them completely unchanged, but many of them were strategically rerouted so that they would still connect the same parts of the ocean. The final design consisted of four vast continents.

"It took another two hundred years to construct the technology needed to raise the land, and after that, another few centuries to fully seed the new landmasses with plants from the farms. At the same time, animals had to populate the continents. A few land animals existed on Faar, but most of them were genetically engineered, so that they would be able to eat specific plants and other animals and maintain a balance of life. These new animals were bred using ancient genes found in fossils of creatures from a prehistoric time when even more of Cloral was covered in dry land.

"Once all that was done, it was finally time for people to colonize the land. Over time, they built cities and towns and roads, all the while making absolutely sure that their presence would not damage the new ecosystems they designed.

"The whole process was completed around two centuries ago. But the Clorans haven't abandoned the old ways, either...they still have habitats and underwater farms. But a larger percentage of the population lives on land now, because it's so much easier to house lots of people there."

"Now," said Press, looking at Aja and Siry. "I think you two will like the new Veelox."

The surroundings changed. For one confused moment, the spirits thought that they were in a Ravinian conclave. Then, they realized it was a temple draped in flags. Aja's eyes widened. Each of the flags bore a picture of her face.

There were no benches or pews in this temple. There was only a blue carpet which ran from doors which seemed to lead outside, to an elaborate sculpture which looked like an inverted pyramid covered in writing, as well as a set of large windows which looked out over the skyline of a city. This place didn't have a crowd of people listening to a priest, either. Instead, people came in at random intervals, sometimes on their own, sometimes in groups. Everyone would walk along the carpet to the sculpture, and place their hands on the top with looks of reverence, a few of them muttering under their breaths. After a few seconds, each visitor would turn around and leave through the door they had entered.

"Where are we?" asked Siry.

"This is Rubic City." said Press. "And we are currently inside a house of worship."

"Worship?" said Aja weakly.

"The principal religion of modern Veelox is Killianism." said Press. "Over time, the historical knowledge of your accomplishments became legend. You are now seen as a deity...a supernatural spirit capable of enriching the world with clarity and wisdom."

"That basically describes my role as a spirit of Solara." said Aja, looking stunned and gratified.

"Funnily enough, it does." agreed Press. "The people of Veelox have come closer to guessing the truth about everything than those of any other world."

"But I thought that Ravinia had made all that stuff about Halla and Travelers and Saint Dane common knowledge." said Gunny.

"Initially, it did." said Press. "But after a long time, the truth about what happened was lost to time on each world. People came to believe that Ravinia had simply been created by greedy individuals who made up the whole thing just to gain power and riches. It is probably better that way."

"Why couldn't I be a god too?" said Siry, looking bitter.

"You are still remembered as one of the most famous historical figures in the history of Veelox." Press assured him.

"Let's back up a moment." said Aja. "What happened after Veego and LaBerge were toppled from power, and the pilgrimage began?"

"For a time, it looked as if Veelox would crumble again." said Press. "The pilgrims were faced with the task of trying to coexist with and civilize Flighters all over the world. But ultimately, it proved to be this world's salvation. You see, once the Flighters finally allowed themselves to be reintegrated into organized society, their presence effectively watered down the collective intelligence of Veelox. That might sound like a bad thing, but it wasn't. It ensured that Veelox would have a clean slate...that there would be insufficient curiosity about the past for there to be a risk that Lifelight would be recreated. Reality on Veelox was here to stay.

"Eventually, society evolved again, and now enjoys a great deal of advanced technology. But it has never produced anything like Lifelight. If you will remember, the idea for Lifelight was planted by Saint Dane in the first place, so it's unlikely ever to materialize again. And all of the advancements that the people of Veelox have made on their own serve the greater good of their world."

"Wow." said Siry and Aja together.

"Zadaa, too, has undergone an incredible transformation." said Press, looking at Loor. "In fact, most of it happened in the first few hundred years after Saangi's dynasty came to power."

When the scene reformed, they were standing in a magnificent city of stone pyramids and beautiful ornate fountains of water. But beyond its walls, there was not desert, but grassland. Rolling fields of green stretched for as far as the eye could see.

"What has happened to the desert beyond Xhaxhu?" said Loor.

"This isn't Xhaxhu." replied Press. "In fact, this is a city near the south pole of Zadaa, over ten thousand miles from Xhaxhu."

Loor looked amazed.

"Saangi proved to be the greatest ruler in the history of Xhaxhu. She brought unprecedented prosperity to the Batu, Rokador, and Xhinna. After she died many years later, the three tribes decided to honor her memory by spreading Xhaxhu's peace across all of Zadaa."

"You mean..." said Loor.

"The first tribe to be civilized was the Zafir." said Press. "Though far more violent and primitive than the Batu or Rokador, the Zafir were reasonably civilized compared to the rest of Zadaa. Many other tribes were far more savage, and it took a great deal more effort to make peace with them and teach them how to form a more advanced civilization.

"Unfortunately, this came at a price. Some cultures on Zadaa had done truly spectacular things beyond even the Batu and Rokador, in spite of their violent histories, and several of these were wiped out as the people were coerced to abandon their old ways. It wasn't until after all of Zadaa grew peaceful that the true extent of this damage became known.

"But many of these old achievements actually ended up being restored with time. Some people passed down the old ways through the generations, and eventually were absorbed into the global society. Among these ancient skills were the ability to produce natural medicines that, when introduced into the worldwide medical sector, revolutionized health care. Another was the domestication of some exotic animals which could be used to perform vital farming tasks.

"Not all of Zadaa exists in perfect harmony. There are still some cultural conflicts and the occasional war. But compared to how it once was, this world has come a long way."

"As beautiful as it is, Zadaa doesn't seem to have advanced much in the way of technology." said Gunny, staring around at the stone buildings.

"That is true." said Press. "There have been some slight improvements to the technology that the Rokador developed long ago, but compared to the other worlds there wasn't much change. The real evolution on Zadaa has been society.

"Eelong, on the other hand, has enjoyed tremendous advancements in both regards." he added, looking at Kasha.

Now, they were standing on a bridge, looking out over a treetop city.

Unlike the other worlds, Eelong appeared to have retained some of its Ravinian technology. As it had when Saint Dane had ruled it, the city of Leeandra looked far more developed and sprawling than it had prior to Ravinia's takeover. In fact, it looked far more so. But now, gars were living here once again, and this time it looked as though they were being treated equal to the klees.

"The movement to give gars total equality was driven by two powerful factors." said Press. "First, klee supremacy was forever linked with Ravinia in the minds of Eelong's inhabitants, and was consequently rejected along with all other tenets of Ravinian philosophy. The only thing from Ravinia that they kept was the building architecture, as it allowed a larger population to live in a smaller area. Second, the gars soon established for themselves a reputation of technological ingenuity, with their inventions of energy storage, in addition to improvements to virloam and link technology. The famine plaguing Eelong was soon nothing more than a memory, the domestication of tangs allowed cities to be built on the ground without fear of attack, and as the solar power collectors became more efficient, new inventions became possible."

"Hobey!" said Spader. "It's like a better version of what Eelong was becoming before the Ravinia natty-do!"

"Yes, it is." said Press. "Now, Elli, how would you like to view the Quillan of tomorrow?"

"Very much, thank you." replied Elli.

The scene they now saw was completely unrecognizable from the gray, dead world that they knew. The city of Rune was now bustling with color, energy, and life. The buildings were no longer boxy and gray; some were elliptical, some angular, and some that tapered to a needle-sharp point. They looked like vast, abstract sculptures. The suspended flat-screen monitors which once saturated the people with Blok advertisements and reports were gone. Cars of every shape and size zoomed along at their ease. The sidewalks and streets were no longer jam-packed, which meant that small towns and suburbs existed again. People were dressed in spectacular fashions, so unlike the plain shirts and pants sold by Blok. Every few streets, there were small, grassy areas decorated with elaborate fountains or magnificent statues, like miniature parks.

Perhaps the most wonderful part of this transformed city, however, were the flashy, charming shops that lined the streets. Their names were spelled out in decorative, eye-catching fonts, just like the abandoned stores in the underground mall complex, with the exception that these places were open for business. Some of them looked like small, family-owned shops; others were big, but not Blok big.

"I was wondering if this day would ever come." said Elli, tears of joy forming in her eyes.

"The Revival took a very long time." said Press. "It was done methodically, with a loving attention for detail. And it wasn't just about dismantling the remains of Blok...it was also about recreating everything that was lost as well as possible.

"The loss of Mr. Pop was certainly a blow. If Mr. Pop hadn't been destroyed, it would not have taken nearly as long to bring Quillan back to life. But ultimately, the logs of its contents hidden away by the Revivers produced a result which was basically the same. Books were reprinted. Music was reproduced. Notable works of art were remade with extremely accurate replicas. Even several of the companies Blok had out-competed were reformed, conforming to recorded documents of their corporate strategies.

"Meanwhile, the pre-Blok infrastructure of Quillan was also restored. The tarz plants were scrapped in favor of slightly less efficient but far safer and cleaner methods of power which had been used in the past. Eventually, improvements to these designs would generate more power than even the tarz plants had produced. Smaller communities were also rebuilt, relieving the crowding in metropolitan areas. And the underground malls were reopened for business.

"Once the Revival was finally completed, it was time for the world governments to take measures to ensure that history would never repeat itself. Some people called for blanket bans on vertically integrated corporations or company mergers, and a few were even in favor of an "asset cap" that would forbid companies from having a certain amount of resources or generating a specified level of profits.

"But the wisest leaders of Quillan knew that these extreme limits imposed on the world economy would compromise efficiency far beyond acceptable levels. It was eventually agreed that the government's decision to take action against the growth of a company would be determined not by hard data, but by that company's effect on the people. This effect cannot be quantified, but it nevertheless leaves its mark. If the masses were abandoning everything to mindlessly purchase whatever a firm sold, if a company was making gargantuan efforts to stifle ingenuity in the name of profit, if a business could get away with turning its offers into demands, that would indicate that something had to be done.

"There were a few times over the centuries in which the government took action against corporations on these grounds. But most of the time, such companies were thwarted by the people themselves. They all knew the cautionary tale of Blok, a story handed down through the generations, and the majority of them were able to recognize the danger signs. Whenever this happened, they simply stopped purchasing that business's goods and services, forcing the company to either think smaller or go out of business. As time wore on, corporations began to to act ethically and responsibly of their own accord. It became the cardinal rule of staying in business. If word got out that your big chain store could be the next Blok, that was it for you. You were finished. Nobody would shop at your place anymore.

"For a time, it looked as though this might cause a second collapse of Quillan's economy. As much as the people were turning a blind eye to this fact, big businesses mean more and cheaper products, so long as the industry remains competitive. At its worst, people were so opposed to corporate expansion, and corporations were so frightened of appearing monopolistic, that not enough got done. There wasn't enough of anything to go around, prices soared, and a lot of people had to live in poverty.

"Eventually, however, Quillan experienced a new social revolution. People slowly began to realize they were moving too far in the other direction. They knew they needed to strike a balance, but it had been so long since that balance had existed that they weren't sure how to do it.

"The solution they finally came up with was absolutely brilliant." added Press with a smile.

"What did they do?" asked Elli curiously.

"They created a global supercomputer to measure the economy." said Press. "The creation of this computer was, without hyperbole or debate, the single greatest invention in the history of Quillan. They called it 'Trubbis', and its capabilities outstrip even those of Lifelight."

"What do you mean that it 'measured the economy'?" inquired Elli, confused.

"Trubbis was able to reference every single business in the world, and calculate the ways that they interact. It was even able to measure the global impact of how firm or warm or sweaty the handshake was between two senior executives of companies in separate industries. And it used all that data to put together a measure, on a scale of one to one thousand, of how the world economy was compared to the most perfect balance of efficiency and quality possible. But the most significant feature was that when Trubbis detected a weak point, it determined all of the ways in which this problem could be reduced or fixed. Usually these lists of recommendations included thousands of individual steps, and some might be as trivial as eliminating company parking or adjusting some random worker's salary. The majority of these courses of action didn't even directly involve the problem, or the company causing the problem; the lists often hundreds of companies in total, some of which had never even had contact with the "red flag" company. Trubbis calculates the ways in which certain unrelated events will likely affect the problem in a paradoxical manner.

"The real beauty of Trubbis is that it does not force anyone to do anything, but still gets the job done. As long as even a small portion of the advice is heeded, there will be some improvement. And because some of these measures actually provide short-term benefits for the companies themselves, at least some of the recommended steps are always taken. The most drastic step the computer ever takes is to suggest that the government launch an investigation on a certain firm, but even that is rare.

"Soon after Trubbis went online, Quillan entered an age of prosperity greater even than the days before Blok, which continues to this day.

"But I've spent far too long explaining the specifics of what happened on Quillan." Press said suddenly. "We have one last world to examine." he nodded to Gunny, Patrick, and Bobby.

A few moments later, the three of them beamed with delight. They were in New York...and it looked almost exactly like the Territory of Third Earth had before Saint Dane took control of Halla.

"It took another thousand years," said Press, gesturing to the sloping green hills, the clear blue sky, and the small, pretty housing complexes. "but Earth returned to the what it was supposed to become."

"That seems like an awfully short period of time." said Patrick. "It took three thousand years for the society of Second Earth to evolve to this state."

"The difference is that the people of the post-Ravinian Earth were following a clear vision." explained Press. "Mark Dimond knew what Earth was meant to be like, and laid the foundations to enable that future to evolve as soon as possible."

"Is it exactly like it was?" asked Gunny.

"It is very close." replied Press. "Very few plants and animals actually went extinct as a result of the environmental destruction. The Ravinians bred the most sensitive ones in captivity, so that _they_ could always have them around. And while a few things were never invented or designed, all of the key innovations which allowed Earth to achieve prosperity eventually ended up being created.

"The first step was clearing away the shattered remains of the former civilization. Over the course of a very long time, the people of Earth managed it, and had a clean slate. This time, they got off on the right foot from the start. They built most portions of their cities underground, to be more gentle to the surface world and give it more opportunities to heal. After hundreds of years, the people of Earth now have fundamentally the same world that they did before Ravinia took over.

"Amazing." said Bobby.

Press stared around at them all once more. After a moment, he spoke again.

"Though each of the seven worlds experienced different kinds of social progress, there is a trait all of these tales have in common. Can you think what it is?"

No one said anything for a moment. Then, Bobby said slowly, "On each world, the people corrected their own mistakes. They didn't do it perfectly, and there are some flaws, but when you view the big picture, the inhabitants of Halla are constantly improving themselves through their own choices."

"I couldn't have put it better myself." said Press. "And that, my friends, is the final proof of Saint Dane's folly. When left to their own devices, the people find their own flaws."

Press stepped back to the center of the circle.

"You have all done better than I could have hoped for, both in your former roles as Travelers, and as spirits of Solara. I believe that you have all contributed to the resurrection of the seven worlds with your subtle guidance. Now, it is time to return. And this time, I would advise you to enter the minds of individuals from all of the worlds, rather than the worlds you knew. The territories must remain on their separate paths...but our own paths are one."

With that, Press Tilton faded and vanished. The ten spirits broke the circle, and faded away themselves. There was no more Traveling. No more flumes. No more desperate struggles against Saint Dane. There was only guidance, and humanity. This was the way it was meant to be.


End file.
